


Emotions Are Never Black and White

by lightinthewood



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Internal Conflict, M/M, Malec, Masturbation, Missing Scene, Parabatai Bond, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 122,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10772217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightinthewood/pseuds/lightinthewood
Summary: “Alec observes the people around them and tries not to focus too hard on Magnus himself. He is there to make sure no Circle members or Downworlders get in the way, but it’s hard to tear his eyes away from the enigmatic looking warlock.A sudden movement behind Magnus draws his attention. He fires an arrow before he’s even sure there is any danger, a part of him knowing, however, that he needs to intervene. Izzy’s warning rings out from somewhere on the lower level almost at the same time, making Jace, Clary and Magnus turn their heads, just as Alec’s arrow shoots past them and hits a guy right in the chest.”What happened during those moments that we never saw on TV? What did Alec think about when he first heard the name Magnus Bane? How did he cope with his developing feelings for the powerful warlock? My thoughts on those missing scenes from “Shadowhunters”.





	1. Actually Raising More Than Just Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered about Alec and Magnus and those small in-between moments we never get to see on TV. So I sat down and just started writing. I’m planning to write something for each episode, starting with “Raising Hell”, written largely from Alec’s perspective. It will basically follow the storyline of the show, with some actual scenes from it, but I guess sometimes I will change a few details to make them fit better with what I came up with. 
> 
> This is the first time I’m actually publishing any of my writing and it’s also my first fiction for this fandom, so please be kind. I love the show, which will be my main focus, but I’ve also read the books, so I might borrow some things from time to time. 
> 
> None of the characters are mine, I just write for fun. Tips, comments and/or constructive criticism are always appreciated. :)

Alec is just putting on his boots, when Izzy sticks her head into his bedroom. Freshly showered after his morning training, he smoothes down his still slightly wet hair and looks up at his sister.

“What’s going on?”

“Up and at ‘em, big brother. Clary and Jace figured out who might have stolen her memories. Hodge wants to see us in the ops center,” Izzy says, a wicked smile on her face.

Alec scowls at her, sensing that she’s up to something. But he knows better than to give in to her antics. If she indeed has an ulterior motive for grinning at him like that, with her eyes glinting all mischievous, then he is better served to just ignore her.

Finishing lacing up his boots, he gets up and follows Izzy to where the others are already waiting. His sister has a certain spring in her step that makes him frown even harder, but he gets distracted by Jace and Clary who stand closely together next to one of the ops center tables, deeply immersed in conversation. Something about the redhead just rubs him up the wrong way. He refuses to acknowledge the twinge in his gut when Jace puts a sympathetic hand on Clary’s shoulder, and turns his gaze away. Instead, he sits down at the table, looking up at Hodge expectantly.

The tutor starts briefing them about the intended target, a warlock named Magnus Bane. Alec has heard of him, of course. As the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he has had many dealings with the Clave. As far as Alec is aware, the Institute has paid for Magnus’ services on more than one occasion. He himself has never seen or talked to the warlock, however, and he is not looking forward to dealing with him now. Warlocks are a tricky kind, much more so than vampires, werewolves or even seelies. Their magic is more powerful and their motivations are mostly dictated by money. Selling their spells to the highest bidder makes them unreliable and dangerous. That is not to say that it’s never necessary to utilize a warlock’s magic, but Alec prefers to stay as far away from them as possible.

“Magnus Bane… is over 300 years old,” Hodge states, pulling up pictures on the big screen in front of their desk. Clary and Isabelle, who have moved and are now both sitting on the table next to Alec, look at the screen. Jace also moves closer to get a better look at the pictures Hodge is showing them.

Magnus obviously has some Asian heritage, and, as Hodge tells them, really does seem to enjoy every single aspect of his immortal life. A more recent picture comes up on the screen, of Magnus in some sort of club environment. His eyes are rimmed with black kohl and his shirt is opened almost indecently wide. He is surrounded by other club goers, obviously Downworlders, but Alec’s eyes are glued to the warlock in their midst. There is something about him that sends a slight shiver down his spine. Alec shifts imperceptibly in his seat, his stomach suddenly doing weird somersaults in his body. He has a hard time paying attention to Hodge’s explanation. Pinching himself in the thigh until his eyes water, he stoically stares ahead, trying to clear his mind of Magnus’ open shirt and naked chest.

The plan seems simple enough: bait Magnus with his former lover’s necklace, set up a meeting and get back Clary’s memories. Then they will hopefully be able to finally locate Valentine and the Cup.

Izzy is already glowing with excitement after they decide on arranging to meet Magnus at a local club, and drags Clary off to check out clothes. She doesn’t care that the meeting is still hours away; something like that has never stopped his sister in savoring the depths of her closet. And now that she finally has another girl to talk clothes with, she is completely in her element.

“She seems excited to finally have another female to dress up, doesn’t she?”, Jace asks, mimicking his thoughts exactly. He is standing next to Alec and looks after the two girls with a fond expression on his face. Alec glances down at him and simply nods.

“Reminds me of how she always tried to choose our clothes when we were younger. Thank the Angel she doesn’t do that anymore.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alec murmurs, which earns him a chuckle from his brother. “She still tries to get me to dress up more.”

“Well, your sense of fashion really is terrible,” Jace replies. He nudges Alec’s shoulder with his and winks at him. “How about we put in another training session? You up for it?”

Alec looks down the corridor Izzy vanished in with Clary, but they have already gone. He rubs his hand over his face and then slaps his _parabatai_ on the shoulder. “Come on, then.”

 

///

 

The meeting with Magnus is set up for eleven, so Alec uses the hours after his training session with Jace to do some research on Magnus and prepare himself for the mission. He tries to ignore his increased heartbeat and the flutter in his stomach whenever he sees that picture of the warlock in _Pandemonium_ and concentrates hard on the facts the Institute has on file about him. The database is shockingly incomplete when it comes to anything about the warlock. They don’t know his exact age or date of birth and only have a limited outline of his powers. Alec quickly resigns, scribbling down the few facts and Clave rule violations he can find and gathers his stuff to go back to his room. He debates taking a quick nap to restore his energy levels for tonight, but decides on redrawing his stamina rune instead. It might come in handy in more ways than one later.

Izzy had been adamant about dressing up for the Downworlder rave, but he knows she knows there isn’t much in his closet to qualify as ‘dressed up’. His clothes are mostly blues and blacks, practical, durable and dark, to hide various types of stains. He’s a Shadowhunter, not some styled mundie going to a dance party each weekend.

In the end, he chooses a black t-shirt and black jeans, as well as his sturdy boots. That will just have to do. He’s there to guard Jace and Clary’s back, not enjoy the music and go clubbing. Of course, he has forgotten to consider that his sister will check up on him before they leave. She’s dressed in one of her more provocative outfits, with basically just a bra covering her upper body and skin-tight leggings hugging her curves.

“You are not planning on wearing that, are you?”, Izzy asks when she flounces into his room. He looks down at himself and suddenly feels self-conscious.

“What’s wrong with my clothes? I thought black was cool.” He folds his arms across his chest defensively.

“Alec, come on. You always wear black. Don’t you have something a bit more fancy in your closet?” Alec refrains from telling her that she probably knows the content of his closet better than he does. She stalks over to his dresser and opens his drawers one by one. “Honestly, how are we related? I mean, part of me knew you wouldn't be able to dress yourself properly. That's why I came here, after all. I even told Clary earlier that you never know what to wear to these things.”

She turns to look at him with a small smile on her face. He huffs and sits down on his bed, arms still crossed. He knows she means well, but after all these years, she shouldn’t be surprised about his lack in fashion sense anymore. “Just tell me what to wear and go get your weapons.”

She giggles, pulling out a blue denim shirt from the depths of one of his drawers. Alec didn’t even know he owned a shirt like that. She tosses the garment at him and flings herself next to him on the bed. “That should do it. Leave the jeans, they’re fine.”

Alec quickly changes into the other shirt and turns toward Izzy. She is smiling at him again, that wicked glint in her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Izzy just shakes her head. “It’s nothing. You look good. Handsome even. But we need to do something about your hair.”

“What about my hair?” Alec smoothes down an errant curl that has fallen into his eyes.

Izzy gets up from his bed, stands on her toes and cards her fingers through his dark mop. He clenches his jaw, but lets her do her thing. There is no point in arguing with Isabelle Lightwood, once she has set her mind to something. He learned that growing up with a fierce little sister like her.

She eyes him up for a second, then nods, satisfied. “Now you’re perfect. You’ll turn heads tonight, big brother,” she says with a wink.

A blush creeps up Alec’s neck and he turns away, shoulders hunched. “Don’t be ridiculous. We have a job to do, we're not there to enjoy ourselves. Besides, no one will be looking at me with you and Jace there.” He hasn’t meant for that last part to slip out, but Izzy has this way of getting him to let his guard down too easily in front of her.

Her dark eyes are trained on him and she looks sad for a moment. Alec knows she wants to say something, but whatever she sees on his face and in his hunched shoulders stops her in her tracks. She sighs, but steps closer, smiling again. She pulls his chin down and plants a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But I’m not even dressed yet. And we are allowed to have fun once in a while, Alec. Even you. You never know what the night might hold in store for you.”

She wipes at his cheek with her thumb, probably erasing any traces of lipstick from his face, then swings her hair back and heads for the door. “I’ll see you in the weapons room in a bit.” Then she’s gone, the door clicking closed behind her.

Alec hesitates, thoughts still spinning around Izzy’s words. But he pushes them aside eventually, focusing his mind back on the mission. He ignores the flutter in his stomach when he thinks about the upcoming encounter with Magnus, instead directing his anger on having to overpay him for Clary’s memories, and on Clary, for dragging them into this whole mess in the first place. Helping Valentine’s daughter seems to become a greater pain in his ass by the minute.

He grabs his stele from his bedside table and heads out to the weapons room.

 

///

 

After another discussion with a now changed Izzy – even Alec has to admit she looks stunning in her silver sparkly dress, matching heels and hair band-, he feels a little better about the night. The mission will go according to plan, he'll make sure of it. They’ll meet Magnus, hand over the necklace and hopefully get the information they need to find Valentine and the Cup.

As soon as they’re in the club, they split up. Jace and Clary move away to go locate Magnus, while Izzy and Alec secure the perimeter. The music is loud and booming over the speakers, seemingly echoing Alec’s heartbeat. His body temperature quickly rises, while he makes his way through a throng of dancing people. He sees a few heads turn his way out of the corner of his eye, but pays them no attention. His bow and arrow concealed by a glamour, he takes position at the stair case leading to another dance floor of the club. From there, he can see Jace and Clary make their way through the dancers, easily locating the warlock in question.

Alec observes the people around them and tries not to focus too hard on Magnus himself. He is there to make sure no Circle members or Downworlders get in the way, but it’s hard to tear his eyes away from the enigmatic looking warlock. He can’t make out what the three are discussing, having not activated his advanced hearing rune. The club’s music is simply too loud and would only distract him during their mission.

A sudden movement behind Magnus draws his attention. He fires an arrow before he’s even sure there is any danger, a part of him knowing, however, that he needs to intervene. Izzy’s warning rings out from somewhere on the lower level almost at the same time, making Jace, Clary and Magnus turn their heads, just as Alec’s arrow shoots past them and hits a guy right in the chest.

Alec rushes down the stairs, heart beating fast and sounding loud in his ears, as he brushes past the others to kneel down next to the man he’s shot. No one around them seems to have noticed anything being wrong, but part of Alec wonders if they just don’t want to get involved in Shadowhunter business. Most of the club’s patrons are Downworlders, after all.

After noticing the Circle rune on the dead man’s neck and securing a Seraph blade from his hands, everything moves quickly. Magnus is up and gone before he has the chance to take a proper look at him from up close, and then Clary almost breaks down. Alec is furious with both her and Jace for losing the necklace without getting any information on the location of the Cup or Clary’s memories back. Nevertheless, he takes Jace’s hands and helps him track Magnus’ whereabouts through their _parabatai_ bond. As with every time they are this close to each other, staring into Jace’s different colored eyes, Alec’s heart beats an almost painful staccato in his chest. It takes him a second to come back to himself after Jace lets go of him and rushes off into the night.

 

///

 

Magnus is hiding out in an old abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn. The hairs on Alec’s neck stand up when he senses danger in their vicinity, just as Izzy holds up her hand.

“Something’s wrong. It’s far too easy to get this close.”

The four Shadowhunters rush forward when it becomes clear that the Circle has also located the warlock’s whereabouts. Alec and Jace exchange a quick look, communicating without words as they always do in situations like this, and split up to cover more ground.

Bow at the ready, Alec sneaks around a corner when one of Valentine’s men jumps out at him. He is too close to fire off an arrow, so Alec pulls out his Seraph blade. It’s a quick fight, with Alec’s faster movements easily giving him the upper hand. Just when he plunges his blade into the Circle member’s neck, he hears a loud crash from up ahead. Stashing away his weapon, he creeps forward to find Magnus Bane and locate the commotion.

Around the next corner, he discovers the entrance to the warlock’s apartment, the destroyed front door hanging off its hinges. He quickly moves inside and turns the corner to find Magnus and a Circle member battling around the apartment. The warlock’s hands glow blue with magic, while his opponent brandishes a large Seraph blade, taunting the other with his vile threats. He is so engrossed in the fight that he doesn’t see Alec pop up behind Magnus.

The Shadowhunter’s arrow lodges itself in the Circle member’s left leg and brings him down. As if they are working together as a team, Magnus conjures his magic and shoots it forward. The Circle member is thrown backwards and doesn’t get back up.

Alec lowers his bow. “Well done.” He looks around, but can’t make out another immediate threat to the both of them.

“More like medium rare,” Magnus replies. Alec holds back a chuckle, but part of him appreciates that small joke in the face of danger. The warlock turns around and his eyes move up and down his body, in what to Alec looks almost like a surprised and appreciative way. He moves closer, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m Magnus. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?”

From up close, Magnus looks even more impressive than on the pictures Alec has seen. His dark eyes shine with sparkly makeup and his black hair is arranged stylishly on his head. Magnus is dressed to the nine, clad in material that looks softer and finer than anything Alec has ever seen before, probably more expensive than the whole content of his closet put together.

The warlock is standing right in front of him now and Alec quickly replies to his questioning look with “Alec”. It takes him a second to realize that he has a big smile plastered on his face, his eyes locked with the warlock’s. He might not be the best judge of beauty, but Alec doesn’t think he has ever seen a man as handsome as Magnus. A small part of his mind hisses his brother’s name at him, but somehow the warlock still seems beyond compare. His whole appearance, carefully crafted and arranged, is just more… just _more_ than Jace’s ever is. Magnus' dark hair and eyes stand in stark contrast with Jace's golden look. Alec’s heart beats out a quick rhythm, his stomach doing those weird somersaults again.

He realizes Magnus is still looking at him, so he points a finger to the loft’s exit. “Oh, uh… We should really… Ah, you know, probably get… Yeah.” Alec quickly shuts his mouth, a furious blush creeping up his neck. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s never been the most elaborate of people, but he has never in his life stuttered like that. It’s like his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth and he has a hard time concentrating. Something about Magnus just takes his breath away.

The warlock smiles and nods. “Right, we should join the party.”

“Right,” Alec breathes out, still having that dopey smile stuck on his face. Before he can make a bigger fool of himself, he tears his gaze away from Magnus and rushes off. His heart is beating a violent rhythm in his chest that has nothing to do with the two fights he was just involved in.

 

///

 

After that, the rest of the night goes completely downhill. First the memory demon exposes Alec’s feelings for Jace, then his brother gets almost killed because of him, ending the night with Clary having to kill the demon and losing all her memories in the process. And all of it is Alec’s fault.

When the group returns to the Institute, Alec slinks off to his room, avoiding his sister’s imploring gaze, but especially Clary and Jace. He can feel Izzy staring at his back and part of him is expecting her to turn up at his door later, but she stays away. For once, he’s grateful that his sister doesn’t force him to talk to her about what happened at Magnus’ loft.

Back in his room, he toes off his boots and throws himself on his bed. Burying his head under the pillows and closing his eyes, the memories of the night come flooding back to him. He can’t forget the look of Jace’s still body lying on the cold floor, Alec for a second thinking he had caused the death of his _parabatai_. Jace and he hadn’t talked the whole way home, his brother being too occupied with comforting a distraught Clary and Alec trying to ignore his conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Even now, in the privacy of his bedroom, Alec can’t bring himself to really examine what happened when the Shadowhunters relinquished their memories to the demon. All his life, or at least ever since he’s known Jace, Alec has tried to keep this part of himself hidden away. As a Lightwood, he was taught to keep his emotions in check and not let feelings cloud or influence his judgement. As the oldest, his parents always put a lot of pressure on him to be perfect, to be the good soldier, a leader, but also to be someone who follows rules and obeys the law to the letter. When Alec realized that he was… different, he took those feelings and banished them to the deepest depths of his heart, locked them up and threw away the key.

Even though they are _parabatai_ , he has never confided in Jace about his feelings. When they got older and Jace started talking about girls, Alec simply evaded questions about his own experiences. For all his faults, his brother quickly realized he didn’t want to talk about it and refrained from asking him again. They seemed to arrive in a weird sort of limbo, where Jace often boasted himself with a new female conquest and Alec simply focused on being the best Shadowhunter he could become. Somehow, it worked. They worked.

Now, the memory demon has forced Alec to re-evaluate feelings he desperately tried to ignore for the past ten years. He fists his hands in his duvet, eyes pinching closed and brows drawing together. His breathing picks up, but he ruthlessly stomps down the emotions threatening to flood his body. Jace is his brother, his friend, his _parabatai_ , nothing more. He repeats that thought in his head over and over again. He just hopes that their relationship is not too damaged by his own lack of control. Although Jace hasn’t said anything to him, he is sure his brother is mad. Alec not only couldn’t keep his infatuation at bay, he also caused Jace harm and Clary to lose her memories. Finding Valentine and locating the Cup seems farther away now more than ever.

Alec burrows deeper under his pillows, willing himself to fall asleep. He is still dressed in black jeans and the blue denim shirt Izzy picked out, sweat clinging to his back and face, but he can’t bring himself to get up again. It’s well past two in the morning and all he wants is to sleep. Unfortunately, the adrenaline is still running high, conjuring scenes from the night in front of his inner eye. Although part of his mind is still firmly revolving around Jace and his exposed feelings, another face suddenly seems to dominate Alec’s thoughts.

Magnus Bane is so different from what Alec had imagined. Granted, he has only met a handful of warlocks, but no one could even begin to compare to Magnus. During the whole night, Alec had a hard enough time keeping his eyes off him, but the warlock hadn’t made it easy. The Shadowhunter didn’t really have any experience with flirting, but even without it was obvious that Magnus was coming on to him.

The corner of Alec’s mouth turns up slightly at the memory of Magnus calling him “pretty boy”. Izzy has called him handsome before, even did so tonight, but Alec usually just brushes her off. As his sister, she may not be the best person to judge his appearance. Yet Magnus seems to be the only person Alec has ever met, who had not been taken in by Jace’s golden looks, but rather Alec’s dark and brooding presence.

The electric shock that seemed to run through his hand when he'd touched Magnus, still leaves a residue tingle in his left hand. Alec pulls it closer to himself, curling his fingers under him, conveniently placed on his chest.

Part of him still feels uncomfortable with the attention Magnus has directed his way, but another, smaller one revels in someone being interested in him instead of his siblings. Alec is so used to being overlooked when he is out somewhere with Izzy and Jace that it came at a bit of a shock to his system to have the warlock’s dark, kohl-rimmed eyes fixed on no one but him. Although he’s still unsure how he should have reacted towards Magnus’ innuendos and flirty smiles, he feels the tiniest bit pleased that someone as old and experienced as the High Warlock of Brooklyn would spare him even a second thought. Magnus’ whole demeanor screams for attention. Alec feels partly intimidated by so much glam and bling-bling, yet at the same time, there is something comforting about the warlock’s abundant confidence.

Eventually, Alec falls asleep with thoughts of cat-like movement, soft-looking clothes and dark, mysterious eyes swirling through his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few other scenes written, but they are from season 2, so it might take me a bit to go back to the first one. Alec is still so very conflicted at this point in the story, so he’s not always easy to figure out. But I relate to him a lot, so hopefully inspiration will hit me soon. I already have a few things in mind. The rating will most likely go up to at least mature, but only later on.
> 
> Thanks also to Serrena for encouraging me to go ahead and publish this. And thanks for reading it over. :) 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr at light-in-the-wood. xxx


	2. One Lightwood To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, there’s barely any Malec in this part, because I don’t want to force an earlier interaction that has no real foundation in the show. But next chapter, I promise! Also, somehow I can’t seem to stop writing Izzy/Alec scenes. I just love their relationship. Izzy is one of the few people who always seems to see right through her brother.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a bit shorter, but the next one will hopefully be up by the end of the week.

Alec jerks awake abruptly. Blinking his eyes open, he stretches his arms above his head and sits up. Judging by the light filtering in through his floor-length windows, it must be still early. He couldn’t have slept more than four hours, but it’s no use going back to sleep now. A look down at himself reveals that he is still in his clothes from the night before. Refusing to think about what happened earlier at Magnus’, he gets up and takes a quick cold shower.

He hasn’t even been awake for more than two hours, and the Institute is already in disarray. Clary’s necklace turns out to be a portal shard that apparently has a connection to Valentine – one which Alec quickly severs by locking the necklace safely away-, then a fellow Shadowhunter informs him that his mother has just arrived from Idris. It’s never good news when she turns up without notice. Not that often calls ahead, she likes to keep him on his toes, after all. A Shadowhunter is always ready for anything, and as he is the acting head of the Institute during his parents’ absence, Maryse expects only the best from him.

Nevertheless, she makes him feel like an unruly child when she gives all of them a proper dressing down. Alec’s jaw clenches when his mother just scoffs at Izzy’s connection to the seelies, but even when he tries to intervene, she brushes him off. Instead he is left stuck at the Institute, babysitting Clary. It’s never a good sign when Maryse actually raises her voice. Usually, she emanates enough authority without having to yell.

Sometimes it surprises Alec that his mother can still manage to make him feel five years old again with just a few words. Ever since he can remember, she always expected him to be the best, to fight the hardest, to surpass coeval Shadowhunters in every aspect. Although she’s been tough on all her children, as the oldest, he always bore the most pressure. It became clear quickly that Izzy would only to a certain extent bow to their parents’ expectations. As for Max, Maryse and Robert seem much more lenient with the youngest Lightwood child. Alec doesn’t hold a grudge against his brother or sister for that, but part of him still wonders what it would have been like, if they had just put a little less responsibility on his shoulders.

He leaves Clary in the training room and goes to look for Izzy. She’s in her room, preparing to visit Meliorn as per their mother’s orders.

“I should be the one to come with you to see the seelies”, he simply states, arms clasped behind his back. His sister looks at him with an inscrutable expression on her face, dark eyes locked with his. Her stare makes Alec feel uncomfortable, but he forces himself not to show any emotion. Judging by Izzy’s softening look, though, it doesn’t quite work. She sits down on her bed and pats the space next to her with her hand. Alec hesitates, but eventually goes to join her.

“You know how mom is, she knows you’re better served here watching Clary.”

“You mean babysit her.”

“Actually, I think she just doesn’t trust Jace not to do her every bidding, what with Clary around and all. He’s always had a weak spot for beautiful girls, and she knows that.” Izzy smirks and even Alec can’t hide a small smile. They both know Izzy is not wrong.

Alec huffs and puts his elbows to his knees. “I just don’t know what he sees in her…” Izzy raises her eyebrows at him, making him frown. “You know what I mean. I didn’t mean… I mean I can see what he… Uh.” His teeth clack together when he abruptly closes his mouth. This is yesterday all over again, him being totally unable to formulate a complete sentence. And this time it’s just his sister sitting there, not a gorgeous warlock. Hang on, what? A sudden blush rushes to Alec’s face at the thought of Magnus and how he stuttered his way through a sentence around him last night.

It’s like Izzy can read his mind, judging by the look on her face. “Yes, I know what you mean. Everyone can see what he sees in her, big brother. Even you have to admit that she’s pretty.” Alec refrains from giving an answer. “But I guess you don’t really notice something like that. At least not with girls.”

He doesn’t jump to her bait, but Izzy wouldn’t be a Lightwood if she was just going to give up that easily. “So, what did you think of Magnus?”

She’s much blunter about it than Alec expects. He turns his head to look at her and she winks at him. Rolling his eyes, he gets up from the bed, pacing up and down her room. His sister is patiently waiting for him to answer her, but he’s not sure what she wants to hear.

“He’s… different. I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, stopping close to the door.

“Just what you thought of him. Do you like him? Because I think he definitely likes you.”

Alec’s cheeks burn, but he refuses to acknowledge Izzy’s wicked smile. “What are we, twelve? Next thing I know, you’re going to ask me to braid your hair.” Izzy laughs, whipping her hair back over her shoulders. Alec turns his back to her, thinking that he should probably go before she forces any other confessions out of him.

“Alec. I’m just stating the obvious here. Magnus obviously has a thing for you, and I just thought maybe you would like him, too”, she says, her voice gone softer now. He turns his head to look back at her, and her expression is open and honest.

“I don’t know what to think of him, Iz.” He briefly closes his eyes, Magnus’ bright smile fresh at the forefront of his mind. He can deny it to himself all he wants, but he can’t change the fact that his stomach flutters pleasantly at the thought of the warlock.

Izzy’s hand touches his fingers, where they have turned white from gripping tightly to his own forearm. She looks up at him, biting her lips for a moment. “It’s okay. Take your time, big brother. There’s no rush.”

They look at each other, until Alec hunches his shoulders, turning away again. “I just don’t know- “

He breaks off when Izzy’s door opens and Jace pokes his head in. Both Lightwoods turn towards their brother, who addresses Alec immediately. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you. Can we talk for a sec?”

Alec nods shortly. Izzy squeezes his arm once, before letting go. “I’ll meet you in the weapons room in five minutes, Jace”, she says loudly enough for the blond to hear.

He gives her a thumbs up and then motions for Alec to follow him outside.

 

///

 

The talk with Jace leaves Alec reeling. A small part of him marvels at his brother’s blindness toward his feelings, but a bigger one is glad he remains ignorant. Jace is so focused on his own obsession with Clary that he also doesn’t seem to be aware of the turmoil of emotions raging in Alec.

As per instruction from his mother, he goes to find Clary after Izzy and Jace leave to go see Meliorn and find out why the seelies stopped communicating with the Clave. The redhead is still in the training room, practicing with a long wooden staff. Her dedication, at least, is something Alec can appreciate. She’s still so untrained, but despite what he feels about it, it’s not something he can actually fault her for. And she does show a willingness to learn and improve her fighting skills.

She stops spinning her staff when he trots up the stairs. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other.” He goes to get his own weapon, turning back toward her. “For what it’s worth, I think your mom was too tough on you out there.”

“Mothers are like that”, he simply replies.

Clary raises her eyebrows and gives him a skeptical look. “Mine’s not.” Alec just stares at her. What does she know about his mother? Jocelyn didn’t raise Clary to be a Shadowhunter, to fight demons and keep errant Downworlders in check like Maryse did with her children. She lived a completely mundane life, never having to worry about living up to everyone’s expectations or being the good soldier Alec was raised to be.

As if sensing his depreciative thoughts, Clary raises her staff. “Go ahead, knock me on my ass. You’ll feel better.”

“Don’t make me say you’re right about something”, Alec answers, not quite managing to suppress a small smirk. “Plant your feet wide.” He points to her legs, quickly falling back into the role of instructor. This, at least, is something he’s familiar with.

“Why did you let your mom say these awful things about Izzy?”, she asks, just as he directs a blow toward her midsection.

Her remark is unexpected, and Alec clenches his jaw. She’s touched a sore point with him. Their mother has always been tough on Isabelle, probably mostly because she would only reluctantly budge under Maryse’s applied pressure, or sometimes even not at all. Alec always tries to put himself in his mother’s path to protect his sister, but there’s only so much he can do. He’ll gladly take the heat for his siblings, but sometimes Izzy’s behavior is hard to defend. Granted, he’s sure this time she’s not actually at fault – if his sister knows something, then it’s how to talk to seelies properly-, but once his mother is off on one of her tirades, no one can do anything about it.

Ignoring her question, lest he lashes out at her, Alec gives Clary more instructions on her fighting technique. “Don’t step into the strike, step through it.” She sighs, making it obvious that she’s not going to drop the subject that easily. Then again, he can’t really agree with her or give her any ammunition on his mother. “Izzy was out of bounds. The law is hard, but it’s the law. Even I forget that sometimes.”

A part of him has always disliked Izzy’s dalliances with the fair folk. As Shadowhunters, they have been taught to stay separate from the Downworlders and not get too involved with them, especially romantically. But another part, a smaller, more recent one, wonders why he should care. Izzy is a grown woman, one of the best Shadowhunters they have, and she’s been making her own decisions for a long time. So far, her relationship with Meliorn has only been helpful for their association with the seelies. Unbidden, a certain warlock pops into his head.

“So, you’re just going to let her send Jace out instead of you?”

Alec strikes out with his staff, maybe a bit harder than he should. Clary parries quickly though, panting against his onslaught. “If I screw up, I expect to be punished”, he explains. “I’m supposed to be a leader.”

They keep fighting, with Clary taunting him until he’s finally had enough and sends her flying on her back. She seems stunted for a moment, so he holds out his hand for her to grasp. Pulling her to her feet, he has to give her credit for lasting against him for more than a minute. Clary then tells him about a box, which might hold a clue on Valentine’s whereabouts, but he quickly shakes his head. They are not going out on another imprudent search without permission from the Clave, especially not now that his mother is here and already angry about their unsanctioned missions.

Alec is interrupted by his phone ringing. Turning his back to Clary, who looks upset about his veto, he picks up. His display flashes an unknown number. “Hello? Who is this?”

An unexpected voice answers on the other line. “Alexander. Hi. It’s Magnus. We met the other day. You know, with the demon.”

Alec is completely taken aback by the use of his full name. No one ever calls him by that, except maybe his parents when they are really angry with him. But he hasn’t heard anyone use anything but his nickname in the last ten years.

Although he can’t see the warlock, Alec’s heart begins to pound in his chest again. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, hey. What’s up?” How did Magnus even get his number? And why is he calling him?

“I was just thinking, it was really nice getting to know you. You seem… sympathetic.”

Alec frowns. What is Magnus getting at? Granted, they had a strange sort of connection the night before, but they barely exchanged more than five sentences. Izzy’s statement of Magnus liking him comes to his mind unbidden.

“Would you like to go out for a drink some time?”, the warlock asks. His voice sounds a bit tinny through the speakers, but that doesn’t stop Alec’s stomach from tightening pleasantly.

He hesitates, but his mind is eerily quiet for once, all doubts and fears somehow silenced. “That sounds fun, um… When?” The Shadowhunter is surprised by his own answer. Did he just agree to go on a date with the High Warlock of Brooklyn?

“How about right now?”

Alec’s heart stutters in his chest and he turns back around towards Clary. “Um…” But he doesn’t see her anywhere. His stomach sinks, because he has an idea about where she’s run off to. “You know, now’s not really a good time for me. Another time? Gotta go.”

Part of him is regretful when he presses the end-call button. He didn’t mean to brush Magnus off like that, but he has more important things to deal with right now.

Running to Clary’s room, he’s not really surprised to find it empty. He grabs the first item from her dresser he sees, a bracelet, and rushes back to the ops center. Getting his bow and quiver from the weapons area, he quickly leaves the Institute, activating the search rune on the way. Although he couldn’t have talked to Magnus for more than a minute, Clary has a bigger head start than he thought. It takes him almost half an hour to catch up with her.

 

///

 

Alec screwed up. Not only has he let Clary and her Mundane friend get taken in by the cops, but it also turns out that those men are werewolves. He really tries to help Jace locate Clary through their _parabatai_ bond, but he can’t seem to focus. His brother’s angry energy buzzes all around the two of them, and he gets distracted by the hurt look in Jace’s eyes.

Izzy tries to mediate between them, but then Simon calls and they are off again. He barely has any time to think about the way Jace screamed at him. There are only a handful of moments when he’s seen his brother angry at him, but never like that. Once Alec put his brand-new leather jacket that Robert and Maryse had brought back from Madrid in the washing machine, after it got demon ichor on it. Of course, the jacket almost got destroyed in the process, which made Jace extremely upset. But it’s only been recently, really only since Clary stepped into their lives, that Jace has actually yelled at him with true rage in his voice.

When they arrive at the docks, the three split up. Isabelle goes off to find Simon, who is most likely still stuck somewhere in the _Jade Wolf_ , while Alec and Jace carefully move through the stacks of containers scattered around the yard. In the end, Luke makes it easy for them, practically delivering Clary directly to them. She goes flying when Jace attacks him, but Alec is quickly there to catch her.

As soon as they reunite with Izzy, who has found Simon in the staff’s changing room, all hell breaks loose. First, they are surrounded by a pack of werewolves, who don’t seem to give much thought to upholding the Accords – then again, the Shadowhunters did trespass on their territory-, after which another wolf joins the party, surprisingly attacking the pack’s alpha.

It turns out to be Luke, who, though he wins the fight, is severely wounded in the process. Simon and Clary rush forward, when Luke slumps down. Just as Jace also moves towards him, Alec grabs his arm.

“Hey. We need to get Clary back to the Institute and stay out of Downworlder business.”

Jace immediately gets in his face, the anger at Alec’s apparent carelessness while watching Clary still buzzing around him. “Why don’t you stay out of it? I’m going to help Clary.” He turns away, but Alec tightens his hold on his brother’s arm.

“We have to report back to our mother.”

“You and Isabelle can do that”, Jace replies, sheathing his Seraph blade. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

Of all the things Jace has said to him tonight, this hurts more than anything. They are a team, _parabatai_ , they always fight together. Neither is truly fine on their own, if there is danger involved somehow. Alec is lost for words while he watches his _parabatai_ help Luke, Clary and Simon to the car. It pains him to hear Jace’s softly reassuring the redhead.

Izzy stands next to him, watching the four rush away. “Are you two okay?” She looks up at him when he doesn’t immediately answer.

“I don’t know…” And he honestly doesn’t. He has never felt more apart and at odds with Jace like this in his life. Ever since Clary appeared in it a little over a week ago, their relationship has been turned completely on its head, seemingly driving them further and further apart by each rash action made on both sides.

Izzy and Alec watch the car speed away from the docks, carrying the new alpha leader to Magnus’ apartment. The wolves around them keep their distance, but flash them very antagonistic glares. Now that their original alpha is dead and their new one has left without giving orders, the pack is obviously unsure of what to do with the two Shadowhunters left in their midst.

Eventually, Alec shoulders his bow, striding towards the city with big steps. It takes Izzy a second to catch up, her heels softly clicking against the asphalt. He senses his sister’s need to talk, but keeps his shoulders hunched and head down. He’s done enough talking and defending himself tonight, now all he wants is to get back to the Institute.

They haven’t gotten far, when Izzy addresses him. “Alec…”, she sighs. He refuses to look at her, so she grabs his elbow, abruptly bringing him to a stop. She tilts her head to catch his eyes, clearly pausing to debate what to say to him. In the end, his sister once again surprises Alec. “What are we going to tell mom?”

He meets her dark eyes, silently conveying his gratitude for not forcing him to talk about Jace or Clary. “Let’s keep this whole thing between us, for now. You can report back to mom about what the seelies said without Jace.”

“Are you sure?”

Alec bites his lip. Part of him wants to tell his mother about Jace’s disobedience, but another one is still desperate to cover for him. And after all, it was Alec who lost Clary in the first place. As the oldest, it is his responsibility to keep his siblings in check and control over the situation. He once again failed to do that.

“Let’s just get back to the Institute. I’ll deal with the consequences later.”

Izzy obviously wants to say more, but he gently removes his arm from her grip and stalks off toward Manhattan. It only takes a brief moment until his sister joins him, threading her arm through his in a comforting gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still kind of struggling with how much I want to include actual scenes from the show. This time, I wanted a more detailed thought process for Alec when it came to the whole Izzy/Maryse/seelies issue during his training session with Clary. I hope it turned out okay. 
> 
> There will finally be Malec in the next chapter, I promise. I can’t wait to write about that night Alec spend at the loft… *waggles eyebrows*.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos so far. Comments and criticism are always welcome. If you’re interested, my tumblr is light-at-the-wood. xxx


	3. Of Shadowhunters and Warlocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the delay, I thought I would have this published by Friday at the latest. But what can I say, real life got in the way. I hope the length will make up for it though. I borrowed a bit more from the actual episode this time around, because I felt there were several missing links between the scenes, which I tried to connect as best as I could. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you’ll like it. Oh, and we finally have some Malec, yeah!

The rest of the walk home to the Institute is conducted in silence. Both Lightwood siblings are immersed in their own thoughts. Alec still doesn’t want to talk about Jace and rather directs his thoughts towards what to tell their mother when they get home. He’s glad that Izzy also seems preoccupied with what she’s learned from Meliorn that day, and doesn’t force another talk on him.

It takes them almost an hour to reach the Institute. Alec grabs Izzy’s arm when she’s about to push the big double doors open to get inside.

“About what to tell Mom… I think it’s best if you just don’t mention what happened with the werewolves. I’ll handle it.”

His sister frowns. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be the one to get all the heat for this. It’s wasn’t even your fault.”

“Mom ordered me to watch Clary and I lost her. So it _is_ my fault. I’ll shoulder the responsibility.” A small part of Alec thinks that Clary and Jace, too, aren't completely innocent in the whole deal, but they're not here. And someone has to talk to their mother. They had orders, after all.

Izzy looks up at him, her dark eyes full of sympathy and maybe even pity, so he quickly turns away. He pushes the Institute’s doors open and heads straight for the ops center, his sister close on his heels. He doesn’t even have time to prepare himself when his mother is on him.

“Where the hell have you been, Alec? And where is the Fairchild girl?”

Maryse stands on the steps leading to the living quarters, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She hasn’t even raised her voice, but a hushed sort of silence falls over the other Shadowhunters working in the ops center. They all desperately try to ignore the obvious anger radiating from their leader towards her oldest child.

Alec’s shoulders hunch fractionally, but he tries to ignore his stomach turning into knots. He feels Izzy take a step forward next to him, but quickly pushes in front of her. “She’s with Jace. They’re out on patrol.”

The lie rolls easily off his tongue, but leaves a certain bitter aftertaste. He doesn’t like lying, especially to his parents, but he also knows that sometimes it’s best for them not to know everything. When he was younger, he often covered for Izzy sneaking off to meet boys or for Jace when the boy pulled another one of his pranks. Sometimes he thought he could see in his mother’s eyes that she knew exactly what he was doing, but he never broke under pressure, so she believed him in the end.

She wasn’t letting him off so easily this time. “What do you mean, they are out on patrol?”, she says, walking briskly towards them. “I think I made myself clear when I gave you your orders this morning. I told you not to leave the Institute.”

“Mom- “, his sister begins, but Alec hastens to talk over her. “She needs additional training. So I took her outside, just to gain more experience. We met up with Isabelle and Jace afterwards, and the two of us came back to brief you on what the seelies said.”

Maryse’s eyebrows shoot up and her lips pinch together. “What you’re telling me is that the Fairchild girl is out there alone now, after I specifically told you to keep an eye on her?”

Alec swallows. “She’s with Jace,” he replies. “I thought it best for her to keep training, but I also wanted to be here to brief you.”

His mother narrows her eyes at him, looking skeptical. “You think you know what’s best, son, but you don’t. Ignoring my orders _again_ … I’m disappointed in you, Alec.”

Izzy bristles beside him, but a small nudge with his elbow stops her from interfering. He knows that her speaking up on his behalf will only fuel their mother’s rage and also draw scrutiny to Izzy. His heart somehow feels heavier in his chest, but he expected a worse reaction from her.

His mother sighs, while Alec waits for her judgment. “Fine. At least she’s with Jace. Hopefully your brother will keep an eye on her.”

That, perhaps, stings more than her disappointment. Alec wants to yell at her that it was Jace who disobeyed orders in the first place, and interfered in Downworlder business after Alec specifically warned him against it. But he keeps silent, despite everything not wanting to cause his _parabatai_ any more trouble.

Maryse straightens up and looks over at Isabelle. She only now seems to notice her daughter standing there, trying to keep her mouth shut and not make matters worse for her brother. “Alec, go to your room and wait for my instructions. Isabelle, you can brief me about the seelies on the way to my office.”

Izzy’s hand is suddenly on Alec's arm, squeezing it once, before he nods stiffly and turns away. He feels like an insolent child being send to his room as punishment. His shoulders hunch, almost unconsciously, while trying to ignore the covert glances and looks he gets from his fellow Shadowhunters when he leaves the ops center.

Alec deposits his bow and quiver in the weapons room and moves to his own quarters. He doesn’t really know what to do with himself, once he’s there, so he just sits down on his bed.

His phone is in his hand before he’s even aware of it. Who does he call? Jace? To say what? “I covered for you and now Mom is pissed at me”? Unlikely. Part of him wants to talk to his _parabatai_ , but another stubbornly hopes that Jace will make the first step, for once. They don’t fight often, but when they do, it’s usually always Alec who tries to bury the hatchet. He’s the oldest, the more responsible one, and he doesn’t like unfounded conflict. Jace always forgives him easily, just as Alec is willing to overlook his brother’s occasional shortcomings. It’s not like he himself has none of those.

Another thought pops into his head, when he turns the phone over and around in his hands. His earlier call to Magnus, which seems almost like a lifetime ago, ended rather abruptly. Remembering the warlock’s sonorous voice, his heartrate picks up. He really wants to talk to him again, but isn’t sure how to go about it. After basically hanging up on him, can he just call back? He could apologize for being so brisk and perhaps try to talk about those drinks again that Magnus mentioned. Maybe the warlock would invite him over and they could spend an evening together…

Alec quickly cuts himself off, jumping up from his bed like something poked him in the butt. He throws the phone on his desk, pacing back and forth in his room. He needs to stop thinking about stuff like that. It’s not right. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly imagining spending time with another guy like that, like it actually means something. What would his parents think? And more importantly, what would the Clave think? Relationships like that, between Downworlders and Shadowhunters, might not be forbidden by the law, but they are highly frowned upon. And besides, that isn’t even the worst part. The fact that Magnus is a man weighs heavier on his mind than the fact that he’s a warlock.

Alec knows he’s… that he likes… He can’t bring himself to even think it. Shadowhunters are a traditional, perhaps old-fashioned kind of people that don’t like drastic changes to the status quo. Shadowhunters marry young, because they often die young. They are a dying species, leading to most families trying to have more than one child. At one point in the near future, if they are not thinking about this already, his parents will ask him to contribute to the survival of their kind. He will have to marry a Shadowhunter girl from a respectable family and produce lots of children. Alec shudders at the thought, but he knows he won’t really have a choice. It’s his responsibility and neither his parents nor the Clave care for what he wants. It’s the way Alec has been brought up, after all. His duty to his people and his family always comes first. No matter how much he might wish it different.

Magnus’ face pops into his mind again, the way his dark eyes had looked at him, how his hand had felt in Alec’s own, how he had made him smile after defeating that one Circle member. Alec yearns to just give in to the emotions raging in his head and his heart, duty and the honor of his family name battling against his deepest and darkest desires.

The dull tapping of high heels pulls him out of his reverie and a second later, Izzy walks into his room, wrought up from her talk with their mother.

 

 ///

 

The phone call with Jace throws Alec back into the spiral of doubt. He’s conflicted about wanting to help his brother and obey his mother’s orders. She hasn’t come to see him yet, so he pockets his phone and heads towards her office.

Part of him wonders why Magnus would need him to help save Luke’s life anyway. If Jace is there, isn’t that enough powerful Shadowhunter energy? Although Alec has more experience, he isn’t sure he could actually beat Jace in a fight. His brother has always been hailed as one of the best, if not _the_ best, Shadowhunters of his generation. After his parents took Jace in, he was showered with praise and admiration from all sides. From the age of ten, Jace knew his own worth. It all came naturally to him, while Alec had to train harder and practice more in order to achieve his goals.

He finds his mother in her office, back turned to door. The way she holds herself, it throws Alec off. There is a certain sense of vulnerability to her somehow, that he can’t quite explain. Usually, her posture is upright and proud, but now her shoulders are hunched and seem to shake.

When he addresses her, he senses something is wrong, something that she’s not telling him. Her earlier words seem forgotten when he recounts the story of his childhood and how proud she was of him for breaking the rules and standing his ground. He senses that he’s forgiven for having let Clary stay out with Jace, but there’s still an air of uncertainty around his mother. It seems his behavior is not the only thing troubling her, the Clave apparently also applying a kind of pressure to the Lightwoods that he has yet to hear anything about.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” Alec says. His mother looks up at him from her position on the sofa, her gaze thoughtful.

She hesitates, and Alec narrows his eyes.

“Mom, I know I made a few mistakes lately, but- ”

“Alec- ” she interrupts him.

“No, Mom, I know. I know you’re disappointed in me, but I only tried to do what’s best for the Institute. Clary… I tried to keep her here, keep her safe, keep an eye on her. I just- “

“Alec! I know,” Maryse cuts him off again. “Son. Listen to me. Your unsanctioned missions have put the Lightwood name in a bad light and we need to restore our family honor.” She hesitates again, getting up from the sofa. Guilt claws at Alec’s insides, making him hunch his shoulders. He knows everything he did lately would not go over well with the Clave, but he hasn’t realized that it’s this bad. He never meant for his family name to get dragged through the mud. Before he has a chance to offer his full support again, his mother continues talking.

“Your father and I have discussed a few strategies to put us back into the Clave’s good graces.”

“Good. What can I do?”

“At the moment, nothing. We will talk to you and Isabelle about this at a later point, probably tomorrow. But for now, I want you to make sure that you do not go off on any missions without the explicit approval of either me or your father, do you understand?”

She regards him in earnest, with eyes so much like her daughter’s, yet devoid of the same adoration and warmth that Izzy’s have when she looks at him. That is not to say that there is no love in his mother’s gaze, but she is not as open about her feelings as his sister is.

Alec nods once. “I understand.”

She dismisses him after that and he heads to the training room. Taking off his shirt, he wastes no time practicing with the same staff he trained Clary with earlier that day. It feels so much longer ago, but it’s really only about ten at night. For the time being, his mind is blank and he only focuses on precise movements and quick attacks.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been at it, sweat collecting on his back and chest, running down his face, when Izzy rushes toward him.

He’s striking out against the punching bag when she says: “Promise me you won’t go through with it!” He stops to look at her. “Promise me you’ll say no.”

“What are you talking about? Say no to what?”, he asks, confused.

“They’re going to make you marry.”

Alec scuffs skeptically and looks at his sister. “Who’s they?”

Izzy seems properly upset, anger buzzing around her like a cloud of mist. “Our parents are making plans for both of us.”

There is a sinking feeling in Alec’s stomach but he still shakes his head, not really wanting to believe her words. “No, you heard wrong.” He aims another blow at the punching bag, trying to ignore his sister.

Izzy is having none of it, though. “It’s true, Alec!”, she yells, grabbing the staff and pulling him towards her. He tries to remove the weapon from her grip, but she is stronger than she looks. “They need a political alliance quickly to restore our family name and our influence at the Clave.”

Part of him still doesn’t want to believe Izzy is telling the truth, but his mother’s words rush back to the forefront of his mind. That was what she was talking about. They want him to marry a nice, respectable Shadowhunter girl and help restore their honor in the process. Exactly the thought he has had earlier, only back then he thought he would have more time. That they’re actually considering doing this now comes as a bit of a shock. But then again, he’s also somehow brought this on himself. The thought of Jace and Clary, always Clary, comes to mind unbidden.

He scoffs again, somehow realizing the irony of his situation. He tried to be a good brother, protect Valentine’s daughter because his _parabatai_ asked him to, and now this is the thanks he gets. “I knew Clary Fray would come back to bite me in the ass.”

Izzy turns her gaze away, looking both guilty and sad. Part of him knows it’s not really the redhead’s fault, but his parents want to force him to marry, so he’s allowed to be pissed off at someone else.

Another thought pops into his head. “So wait, if I’m getting married, what are you doing?”

His sister looks up at him again. “They need me to convince the Clave to placate the seelies somehow.” Her voice is quieter, like she’s unsure how he’s going to react.

“You’re playing the diplomat? Again?” Alec feels his blood pressure rising. He’s not angry at his sister, per se, but why is he the only one getting screwed over? It’s bad enough his mother didn’t allow him to go to the seelies together with Izzy, now he’s being benched once again. “That’s my job. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing!”

He was raised to be a leader, to run the Institute after his parents, and now his little sister is taking over all the missions and responsibilities he was trained for.

“I know that!”, Izzy cuts in. He sees the hurt in her eyes at his dark look. “But I’m the one with ties to the seelies.”

He can’t help but smile at the irony again and turns away from her. Alec has kept himself away from the Downworlders, because that is what was expected of him and now it comes back to bite him in the ass. Sticking to the rules and obeying orders seemed so much simpler only a few weeks ago.

In the end, he’s had enough of it. He knows his words hurt Izzy, but he can’t stand to be in the Institute for a second longer. Suddenly, the pressure from his parents, from his siblings, the responsibility he’s shouldered all his life seem to suffocate him. He just wants something for himself for once, some praise for his hard work and not get all the heat for something he isn’t to blame for.

He leaves his sister in the training room, grabs his shirt and jacket and leaves the old church before anyone can stop him. He doesn’t even go back to grab his bow or a Seraph blade, just wanting to be far away from his family for a while.

Alec’s mind is spinning with the realization that when he gets back, his mother will tell him exactly what Izzy has just done. He’s sure she didn’t want to do it earlier, because he caught her off guard when he came to see her in her office. And now this.

Marriage. It seems such a strange concept to Alec. He has, of course, considered it before, as he’s done earlier. But it always still seemed so far away. His parents have never approved of Izzy’s dalliances with the seelies, or any boy for that matter, but they never talked to Alec about it. He hadn't cause any problems when he was younger, like his siblings often had. He’s always been the good child, the one to follow all the rules set out for him, always doing what was expected. His parents knew they could trust him, rely on him. Now, it seems, they also trust him to carry most of the responsibility of restoring the Lightwood name.

His phone suddenly vibrates in his pocket, distracting him from his train of thought. He pulls it out to see Izzy calling.

Alec ignores it and keeps walking, not wanting to engage in another conversation with his sister. But when the phone stops buzzing, he is reminded of the talk he’s had with Jace earlier. Magnus asked for him. Apparently he needed his help with saving Luke, but part of Alec also really just wants to see him again. He’s stuck to the rules so far, staying away from Downworlders, denying himself what he wants. But if being married off is the thanks for his obedience, then screw them.

He begins jogging towards the next subway station before he’s even made the conscious decision to follow the warm feeling spreading through his body at the thought of the warlock.

 

///

 

After the attack from the Circle at his old hideout, Magnus now lives in a red-brick warehouse, which has been converted into different lofts. He seems to have a thing for warehouses, if his last living arrangement is anything to be going by.

As soon as Alec enters Magnus’ floor, he can feel the magic. A certain smell of ozone wafts through the corridor and the air is so electrically charged that it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The ground beneath his feet begins to shake, rattling the glass lamps mounted to the walls. Surprisingly enough, the apartment door is not locked and Alec enters, bracing himself against the door frame.

When he rushes around the corner, his eyes immediately zero in on the warlock kneeling in front of the sofa, hands raised above an unconscious Luke. The blue magic casts the loft into an eerie light and catches on the sweat which has accumulated on Magnus’ face.

Alec barely has any time to think about it, when the warlock’s drained powers suddenly make him slump towards the ground. The Shadowhunter rushes forward and quickly catches Magnus by his shoulder, propping him up before he can fall.

He raises is gaze to Alec’s face, the exhaustion palpable in his tired expression. “Help me,” he exhales, glittery-rimmed eyes locked onto hazel ones. He is so close that Alec can feel his warm breath on his face and see the sweat running down his temple. “I need your strength,” Magnus says, raising a hand towards him.

Alec is unsure for a second, never having shared his powers this way before. Jace and he have tapped into the others reserve through their _parabatai_ bond while fighting before, but grasping hands like this, with someone unfamiliar no less, seems daunting.

His breath comes out in quick puffs and he looks back and forth between Magnus’ eyes and hand, the ground still shaking beneath his knees. In the end, the undisguised need and something that almost looks like confidence in Magnus’ eyes make him grab the warlock’s hand.

“Take what you need.”

Magnus ringed fingers close around his longer ones, and he gives him a small smile. The time seems to stand still for a long moment, while Alec stares into the warlock’s dark eyes and feels the contrast between cold rings and hot skin between his fingers.

Then the moment is broken and Alec helps push Magnus up into a better position, moving his free hand back over a shaking Luke. Alec closes his eyes and concentrates on letting the warlock access his strength.

It feels strange. His whole body is going back and forth between being too hot and too cold, a weird tugging sensation somewhere around his stomach. His heart beats out a violent rhythm in his chest and he has a hard time formulating a coherent thought. Sharing powers with Jace always radiates from their _parabatai_ rune, but this feels like his whole life force is being sucked out from his heart, down his arm, through his hand. It’s not a bad feeling though, on the contrary. Alec feels like he’s floating, being only aware of the warm body next to him, attached through their hands.

Through the fuzzy cloud surrounding his head, he thinks he can hear voices somewhere behind him, but he’s not sure.

Slowly, and then more sudden, the connection seems to dwindle. The tugging sensation stops, and Alec’s mind seems clearer once again. Reluctantly, he opens his eyes. He looks down to see Luke’s eyes open, smiling up at a relieved Clary, who is leaning over her adoptive father. Alec doesn’t have time to make sense of things, when Magnus, whose hand he is still holding, slumps against his chest. The Shadowhunter braces himself against the warlock’s weight, his left arm and leg securely holding him up.

He looks down at Magnus, who raises his gaze in return, exhaustion clear on his face. “You okay?”, he asks quietly, almost out of breath.

Magnus nods weakly against him. “Yeah.”

Alec can’t help but smile. His heart is still beating faster than normal, his breath coming out in short puffs, almost like he’s been running for a long while. Magnus closes his eyes for a moment, his dark lashes fanning out against his honey-colored face. Alec is mesmerized by the gold highlights in the warlock’s hair, which are brushing against his shoulder.

A hand on his shoulder makes him look up. Jace is standing behind him and looks almost worried. “You okay?”, he asks his brother. Alec nods.

“Give me a hand,” he says, and together with Simon and Jace, he helps pull Magnus to his feet. With a groan, the warlock stretches his tired limbs. He’s still a bit unsteady on his feet, so Alec keeps his left hand on the small of his back.

The Shadowhunter can feel a heavy exhaustion in his own body, making his legs and arms feel like lead. But he’s sure it’s nothing compared to how drained Magnus must be feeling.

“Thank you, Alexander,” the warlock suddenly whispers to him, taking a step closer. Their shoulders touch and Alec’s arm is now almost completely around the other man. He quickly drops his hand and feels his face heat up.

“Y-You’re welcome,” he replies quietly.

Magnus smirks, but turns his attention to the now awake Luke. “Well, that was exciting. Goldilocks, Samuel, help me move Luke to my bedroom. He’ll be more comfortable there,” he directs at the others.

“My name is Simon,” the mundane pipes up, but no one pays him any attention.

“Biscuit, grab the antidote.”

While Clary, Jace, Simon and Magnus move towards the bedroom, Alec is left alone in the loft’s living area for a much-needed moment peace and quiet.

He sits down on the sofa’s arm rest, lest he collapse from exhaustion. Sharing his strength with Magnus has left him more drained than he expected. He can still feel the warlock’s strong grip around the fingers of his right hand and he clenches them unconsciously. It seems that he turned up just at the right moment. He knows he told Jace that they should stay out of Downworlder business, but now that he’s helped save Luke’s life, he feels better about himself. He didn’t really do it because his brother asked him to. He partially did he because he wanted to see Magnus again, then because he wanted to help the warlock, and also because it simply was the right thing to do.

Alec still feels a bit weak in the knees, but he gets up from the couch and takes a look around. There’s no time to be idle. Magnus’ loft is in disarray and Alec goes to adjust a picture that has been knocked askew during Magnus’ power surge. He picks up a few books and other items that lie on the floor and puts them back in one of the big shelves lining the wall.

His throat suddenly feels parched so he moves toward the kitchen to help himself to some water. He doesn’t think Magnus would mind, yet he is careful not to disturb anything. After a brief look around, he decides to drink straight from the tap so he doesn’t have to use any of Magnus’ glasses. The water is cool on his lips when he bends his head under the faucet. He drinks in big gulps after realizing how truly thirsty he is, the clear liquid chasing away the last fuzziness in his head and revitalizing his body.

When he returns to the living room, he sees Clary bent over the sofa, staring emptily into space. He hesitates, not sure if he should say something to her. Part of him is still pissed at her, but after everything she’s been through, almost losing Luke like that, he takes pity on her. It’s not like she deserves it, but he is not a cruel person. His anger can wait for another day.

Alec moves past her to pick up another book that has fallen out of its shelf. Clary’s voice makes him turn back towards her.

“Alec, wait.” She looks up at him, the relief obvious on her face. “If you hadn’t gotten here in time, I…” She stops, turning her eyes to her feet. “I’m just… I’m glad you and Jace are okay now.”

She moves towards him, giving him a hesitant smile. Alec is surprised at her train of thought. This is not the thing he was thinking about when he came here. “I didn’t do this for Jace,” he replies.

Clary’s smile widens. “Then I’m glad you did it for you.”

He can’t help but return the grin. The almost comradely moment is broken by his brother, who rushes into the room right then. Their eyes lock, communicating so many things without words.

Seeing his _parabatai_ always does something to Alec’s insides, their bond almost forcing him to forget all the hurt caused in the last hours. A small part of him is still somewhat angry, but seeing Jace’s open expression, full of gratitude and trust, makes Alec’s heart give a big thump in his chest. They will have to talk about it eventually, but for now, everything is forgotten.

He holds out his hand, just as Jace moves towards him, grabbing his arm and pulling him in for a hug. A hand on his neck squeezes once, while Jace whispers “Thank you” into his ear. Alec slaps his brother on the back and they let go. With a quick look back at Clary, Alec leaves the living room to give Jace and her some space. He knows that the other two need a moment for themselves. And surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt as much to see his brother act around Clary in that way as it did only a few days ago.

 

 

///

 

Alec busies himself straightening up Magnus’ loft, putting fallen books away and pushing moved furniture into their original position. Magnus has sent Jace off on another errand, while Clary is in the bedroom, having a long overdue conversation with Luke. Alec supposes that Simon took off after realizing that he was no longer needed.

The Shadowhunter, now sans jacket, is just scrubbing the werewolf’s blood from the expensive leather couch, when Magnus walks in. He seems much more refreshed than an hour ago, having regained his strength quite quickly. He tuts once at Alec and moves towards his trolley table. He picks up one alcohol bottle after another, while Alec tries not to pay him that much attention. He rather directs his whole concentration towards removing the blood stains from the couch.

“You know I have magic for that, right?”, Magnus asks him after a moment.

Alec looks down at the bloody rag in his hands. “I think you’ve exerted yourself enough for one day.”

Magnus smirks and holds out a glass toward the Shadowhunter. “Drink break?”

Alec laughs softly and gets up from the hard, smooth floor. He moves around the couch and takes the delicate glass from Magnus. He is careful to only take it with two fingers at the upper part, so as not to touch the warlock’s hand holding the stem. With a single snap of his fingers, a blue fire erupts on Alec’s drink.

He raises his eyes to the other man, who gives him a big, probably flirty smile. “To us.”

Heat creeps up his neck again, but he clinks glasses with Magnus nevertheless. Carefully taking a sip from the clear liquid, Alec can’t help but wince at the bitter taste of alcohol. Shadowhunters rarely, if ever, drink, because they are almost always on duty. His people are not known for their big, elaborate parties, unlike the warlocks, who don’t shy away from excessing in drink, music and other earthly pleasures.

The alcohol burns his throat when he swallows, making him wince once more. He can see Magnus suppressing his laughter and immediately feels self-conscious.

“Why did you ask for me…” he begins haltingly, “when Jace and Clary were both here?” Alec’s been wondering about the fact that the warlock specifically wanted to see him, supposedly to tab his power reserve, when the other two Shadowhunters were much more conveniently located.

“Hmm,” Magnus utters, a much too innocent look on his face. “Jace didn’t tell you?”

Technically, his brother hasn’t, so Alec shakes his head no.

“Doesn’t matter,” the other man replies, turning towards his window front. “It was a lie anyway.”

Alec doesn’t know what to do with that answer. “Are warlocks always this cryptic?”

“I’m not being cryptic,” Magnus chuckles. “I’m being coy.”

The Shadowhunter looks up from his drink, surprised by the other’s words. Coy? What is he talking about? Is this flirting?

Magnus shoots him a look and sighs at his confused expression. “Let me spell it out for you,” he says, moving closer again. “I wanted to see you again.”

Alec stares at him, completely unsure how to respond. He feels his cheeks warm, his eyes embarrassedly darting to Magnus’ and away. “Why?”, he responds eventually, with a little disbelieving shake of his head.

“Why did you come?”, Magnus retorts instead, stepping even closer.

Alec’s heart starts hammering against his ribs, his ears burning. He can see the shimmering glittery makeup around the warlock’s eyes, the gold-colored strands of hair hanging stylishly to the side. His stomach flutters, making his breath come out faster.

He averts his gaze again, letting his eyes shift over Magnus’ head. “I’m not sure.” It sounds more like a question, but it is the truth. Yes, part of him wanted to see Magnus again, while another wanted to just break out from his family’s pressure. But in the end, why did he come? If it wasn’t for Luke, or Jace, or even himself, who was it for?

Magnus gives him a knowing look, which seems to hold both sympathy as well as understanding. “For almost a century… I’ve closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone. Man or woman.”

Alec stares at the warlock’s eyes, completely taken in by how the other man looks back at him. He thinks he can see a certain level of trust, even a silent recognition of a kindred soul.

“You’ve unlocked something in me,” Magnus goes on, looking almost surprised by his own admission.

Alec opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He looks down, completely taken aback and unsure about how to reply. He’s never been in a situation like this, where he’s felt this much out of his depth.

Magnus seems disappointed that he’s not answering, moving his gaze away from Alec’s face. The Shadowhunter is just about to say something, anything really, when his phone starts ringing in his pocket. He jumps a bit, ripped out of the charged moment. Magnus turns away, rolling his eyes in an annoyed fashion.

Alec fumbles with his phone when he sees it’s his mother calling. “Hey,” he says, voice rough, when he picks up. “Hi, Mother.”

He turns slightly away from Magnus, who has moved back to the window front.

“Alec, Isabelle said you went to get Jace and the Fairchild girl back to the Institute. Well done, son. I know it’s late, but there are still a few things we need to discuss, so wherever you are, make your way home now, please.”

Alec closes his eyes for a second. It looks like he just can’t catch a break. “Of course,” he replies quickly and only hears an affirmative sound from the other end of the line, before the call gets disconnected.

He turns back towards Magnus, frowning, and puts down his drink on a side table. “Duty calls.”

The warlock smirks, eyeing him up for a second. “Oh, the furrowed brow. Maryse must be recruiting you for something… unseemly.” The irony of that statement is not lost on Alec.

“Erm, listen, Magnus, I… I wish I could… I just… I don’t know what…” he stammers, a blush at his inability to form a complete sentence rushing to his face once more.

The warlock raises a finger to his lips, only just stopping an inch from touching them, halting the Shadowhunter’s thought process completely. His mind suddenly goes blank and he stares at the finger in front of his mouth, going a bit cross-eyed.

“I understand,” Magnus replies, smirking again. He moves his finger away, and Alec can’t help but follow it with his eyes, a slow smile spreading on his face. Magnus picks up his glass again and raises it towards him. “Stay for just one more drink? And then decide.”

Alec hesitates, unsure what to say. The warlock doesn’t look away, and neither does he. Eventually, Alec relents and takes the glass from Magnus. Part of him marvels at his decision. His mother will be pissed at him for not coming home when she ordered it, but he’s still feeling a little rebellious. And he also really doesn’t want to think about why she wants him back at the Institute.

Pushing the thoughts of his possibly impending marriage to the back of his mind, Alec takes another careful sip of his drink, while the warlock moves to the sofa. It’s still too bitter for Alec’s taste, but he is nothing if not polite.

With a flourish of Magnus’ hand, the couch is bathed in blue light for a second and emerges completely devoid of any traces left by Luke’s blood. He sits down, leaning against one side and, with an expectant look back at Alec, pats the empty space next to him. The blush on Alec’s face deepens, but he moves to sit down, leaving a decent amount of space between their bodies.

Magnus chuckles softly under his breath, finishing his own drink and refilling it with a snap of his fingers.

“So, Alexander,” he says, turning his whole body towards him, his knee casually brushing against Alec’s thigh. A shiver runs down his back at the not quite accidental contact, but he forces himself not to react. His red face is bad enough. “I take it you’re not the biggest drinker then?”

Alec coughs awkwardly, shifting back and forth on the couch. “Ah, uh, no. Not really. I’m not… I mean I haven’t…” By the Angel, why can’t he just utter one coherent sentence in front of the gorgeous warlock? “I’ve never really had any alcohol.”

Magnus snickers, and when Alec casts a quick look at his face, he can see the mirth in the other one’s eyes. “Well, Shadowhunters are not really known for being able to hold their liquor. Much too rigid for excessive drinking. I’ve had my fair share of experience with your people over the years.”

“Yes, um, I guess we don’t really have time for that. Always needing to be on high alert and all.” He self-consciously moves his glass back and forth between his hands.

“I know, Alexander. I’m only teasing.”

A small nudge against his thigh makes Alec look back up at Magnus. Every time the other man uses his name like that, he sends a delicious shiver down his back and makes his stomach flip. “You don’t have to drink that, you know. I can always make you something with less alcohol, or none at all if you want to.” The dark eyes trained on him still hold a sense of amusement, but his voice sounds genuine.

“It’s, um, it’s okay. Thanks.” Alec gives him a small smile.

Magnus’ returning one is blindingly beautiful, giving his angular face a sort of softness to it, his eyes wrinkled with a sense of carefreeness that drowns out the tired look in his gaze. Although he looks young, not much older than Alec, he has to remind himself that Magnus is well over 300 years old. To the warlock, he must seem like a child. He is almost a child. Magnus has experienced more in his long life than Alec will ever be able to. And apparently he’s been drinking with Shadowhunters, or rather without them, well before Alec was even born.

“Alexander.” A soft voice breaks through the Shadowhunter’s reverie. “Where did you go to?”

Alec looks down to the hand placed on his arm, Magnus’ warmth bleeding through his own skin, seeping into his bones and making Alec tingle all over.

“Sorry, I, ah, it’s nothing.”

Magnus seems unconvinced, but he doesn’t press him for an answer. Instead, he removes Alec’s glass from his hand and scoots a bit closer. “I meant to ask earlier, how are you feeling?”

He gives Magnus a confused look. “Me? I’m good, why?”

The warlock huffs, shaking his head slightly. “I took a lot of your strength when I healed Luke, so I just wanted to make sure you’re feeling okay. Everyone reacts differently to their power reserves being drained like that.”

Alec quickly shakes his head, hastening to assure Magnus. “No, don’t worry about it, I feel fine. A bit tired, but that’s it. You didn’t take too much or anything.”

They are suddenly very close again, Magnus’ hand still on his arm, and he can almost see his own reflection in the dark depths of the other one’s eyes.

“Good, that’s good,” Magnus whispers softly, squeezing his arm once. Alec swallows, his whole body suddenly feeling like it’s on fire, but unable to tear his gaze aware from the warlock’s.

Something flashes across Magnus’ face then, and he leans back from Alec slightly. In that moment, the Shadowhunter notices how much his upper body has started to imperceptibly inch closer to the other man and he quickly straightens back up. Magnus has a strange look on his face, emotions warring in his eyes too fast for Alec to make out.

He clears his throat and averts his gaze. Through the vast window front beyond Magnus’ head, he can see the first rays of sunshine peaking over Manhattan’s skyline in the distance. He’s completely lost track of time and now it’s already morning.

Remembering his mother’s phone call and the chores awaiting him today, he gets up from the couch, looking down at Magnus regrettably. “Sorry, but I should really get going.”

The warlock also stands up, all graceful movements in contrast to Alec’s stiff posture. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

Alec gives him a hesitant smile and nods once. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Anytime, Alexander,” Magnus replies, patting him on the arm once. “I look forward to the next time.”

Alec blushes again, but he can’t help but nod. “Sure.”

Grabbing his jacket on the way out, Magnus escorts him to the exit. He casually leans against the door frame after opening it and says: “Until the next time, young Shadowhunter.”

Alec smiles again, raising one hand in a silent goodbye. He moves down the corridor, but can’t help to turn back when he reaches the elevator. The warlock is still watching him from the loft’s entrance, winking at him once before finally closing his door.

A goofy grin still plastered on his face, stomach clenching pleasantly and heart fluttering, Alec gets into the elevator and presses the ground floor button.

He can’t help but wonder about this evening, the second night he somehow spent at Magnus’ without meaning to. During their time together, he forgot almost everything around him, all the pressure from his parents, the problems with Jace, his anger about Clary, and even the still ongoing search for Valentine and the Cup.

Thinking about it now sobers him up pretty quickly, while he makes his way back to the Institute. But a small part of him can’t help feeling both elated and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wanted Jace or Clary to interrupt Malec at the end there, but we’ve already had to endure them cockblocking our boys in the show, so I decided against it. I think Magnus recognized Alec’s conflicted emotions, so he didn’t want to take advantage and therefore broke the moment. I mean, we all know what will happen in the end… ;)
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for the nice comments and kudos. Feel free to critique stuff you didn’t like, etc. Hopefully the next chapter will be up a bit quicker. 
> 
> As always, hit me up on tumblr at light-in-the-wood. xxx


	4. The Lovers and the Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there’s basically no Magnus in this episode, let alone any Malec. This story obviously focusses mostly on Alec’s perspective, and because I’m trying to stick rather closely to the episodes and only complete them in a sense, there’s basically only introspection about their (developing) relationship. 
> 
> Again, I can’t stop with the Izzy/Alec moments. I think she’s really a driving force behind Alec realizing things about his feelings, so the Lightwood siblings have a few more talks in this one.
> 
> Enjoy!

Alec would love nothing better than to take his time walking home, but people don’t keep Maryse Lightwood waiting, not even, or perhaps especially not, her children. Taking out his stele, he applies a speed rune to his forearm. It burns, like hundreds of little needles stabbing into his skin, but he’s endured worse. The pain quickly fades, and then he’s off running.

His glamour is still working, so no mundanes turns their heads to look after the young man dressed in dark clothes who races down the street like he has hellhounds chasing him. It takes him about 20 minutes, running at full speed, to get from Magnus’ apartment in Brooklyn to the Institute in Manhattan. He slows down to a light jog when he sights the old church’s towers above the surrounding buildings. Where mundanes see only a rundown, abandoned abbey, his eyes take in all of the Institute’s evident glory.

No one seems to notice him when he gets inside, not until he runs into Izzy in the operation center. Their conversation quickly goes from embarrassing for Alec to him feeling protective over his little sister. It’s not like part of him isn’t glad that she broke it off with the seelie knight, but looking at her rather conservative get-up, he feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t want his sister to suddenly shoulder his responsibilities, when she should be free to choose her own path.

Alec eventually leaves Izzy in the ops center and heads off to his room. Taking a quick, perfunctory shower, he tries not to dwell on the butterflies still causing havoc in his stomach. He can’t quite help the small smile playing on his lips, but then shakes his head and steps out of the shower.

Still toweling his hair dry, he pulls a dark shirt from his closet, puts on his black jeans again and goes in search for his parents. He much rather wants to talk to his father about Jace and Clary still being at Magnus’, but his mother was the one to call him, so it doesn’t seem like he has much of a choice. He can only hope that Robert will prove a moderating force on his wife when Alec confesses that he has failed yet again.

Before he reaches his parent’s office, however, the phone in his pocket starts ringing. When he takes it out, he sees it’s his brother calling.

Picking up quickly, he asks: “Jace, you okay?”

“Alec, we need some back-up. Come meet me at the police station. And bring Izzy.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong, are you- “

“No time for explanations, Alec, just hurry,” Jace interrupts him.

Before Alec can even ask further questions, the beeping sound in his ears signals that his brother has hung up on him. He looks at his phone screen like it might be able to explain Jace’s behavior, but it only shows the symbol for a disconnected call, before going completely black. Alec clenches his jaw, feeling the anger rise again. They’ve only just made up, and Jace is promptly back to treating him like this, quicker than a vampire can run. Part of him wants to teach his _parabatai_ a lesson and just not show up, but he knows it’s futile. Jace needs him. His voice sounded urgent, so of course Alec will go running.

Stuffing his phone angrily in his pocket, he turns around and heads back to the ops center. Izzy is still working, when he approaches her quickly.

“Suit up, Iz. Jace called for back-up.”

She looks up at him, a slight irritation at his brusque interruption playing on her face, but whatever she sees in his expression halts her reply. She narrows her eyes, getting to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

Alec shrugs. “He didn’t say. But he sounded urgent, so we better get going. He said to meet him at the police station.”

He moves toward the weapons room, Izzy following close behind. Her heels click on the concrete floor of the Institute, a sound familiar to him since she started wearing shoes like that at age 14. Back then, he laughed at her for putting them on, because he didn’t think she could keep up with them while wearing four-inch-heels. But Izzy was always a fast learner and he quickly realized that there is nothing his sister can’t do in high heels. He might be able to outrun her, but that’s just because his legs are longer, not because he’s wearing sensible shoes.

“Are we going right now?” Izzy asks, when he picks up his bow and checks that his quiver is filled with enough arrows. He simply nods. “Have you talked to mom and dad yet?”

Alec hunches his shoulders, knowing that there will be consequences later for ignoring his mother’s orders yet again. “I didn’t get a chance to. Jace called when I was on my way to the office.”

“Do you think it’s wise to just leave? I mean- “

“Izzy,”, he interrupts her, “just get your weapons and let’s go. The quicker we get to Jace, the quicker we’re back at the Institute. I’ll deal with mom later.”

His sister looks dissatisfied, but relents eventually. “Fine. Give me five minutes. I’ll go change and meet you outside.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turns on her heels and stalks off towards her room. Looking after his sister, Alec wonders if maybe he should go talk to his mother after all, before they are leaving to do God knows what and perhaps getting involved in Downworlder business again. But he knows Maryse would not allow them to go. She would rather go see Jace herself and drag him and Clary back to the Institute. As much as part of him would enjoy that, he can feel it in his gut that Jace actually needs their help.

Alec heads to the exit, pacing back and forth while waiting for Isabelle. A vibration against his leg announces a text and he quickly takes out his phone, thinking it might be Jace.

_Whenever you feel up to a repeat of last night – the drinks, not the dying werewolf-, give me a call. xoxo Magnus_

He feels his face flush and reads the text two more times. His heart picks up again in his chest –something he apparently has to get used to when it comes to the warlock-, beating an excited rhythm against his ribs. Alec hasn’t really thought about how to approach seeing Magnus again, but it seems the warlock himself has been thinking about it as well. And in contrast to Alec, who is basically inept when it comes to flirting and setting up dates, Magnus knows what he wants and doesn’t hesitate to get it. However, the other man has left the choice of how to proceed at Alec’s feet. The ball is in his court, so to speak. He can’t help but smile at the consideration Magnus is treating him with. Part of him thought his obvious inexperience would drive the warlock away, but on the contrary, he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“What are you smiling about?” Izzy’s voice cuts through his thoughts, making him flinch slightly. He was so distracted with reading Magnus’ text that he didn’t hear his sister approach.

Alec quickly puts the phone back in his pocket and ignores her question. “Are you ready? Then let’s go.”

Izzy smirks knowingly, her delicate eyebrows curving above her dark eyes, who seem more like a warm chocolate brown where the sunlight hits them. She changed into an all-black outfit with tight leather pants and a nice fitting blazer, which reminds Alec more of their mother than Isabelle’s usual clothes. The demon-detecting necklace sparkles red and silver in the sun, where it lays open on her chest.

Alec shakes his head and Izzy shrugs, still smiling cheekily. He huffs irritably and walks away. They don’t really talk to each other on their way to the police station, just living in the comfortable silence only siblings who know each other as well as Izzy and Alec can.

 

///

 

When they arrive at the police station, Clary and Jace are just storming out of it, seemingly immersed in an argument. Part of Alec is secretly glad, but the rest tries to ignore that gloating side of his. The two quickly fill Izzy and him in on what they have discovered so far.

While Clary is on the phone with Simon, Jace turns to them. “Okay, I have a plan how to get the Cup. The tarot card is somewhere amongst Luke’s possessions, so Clary and I will head up to the vault while you two cause a distraction. We need to get up there undetected.”

Alec crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks skeptical. “And how do you propose we distract a building full of mundane policemen?”

Jace smirks. “Have a little imagination, Alec. Just cause a power outage and Clary and I will do the rest.”

“Why you and Clary, though?” Izzy cuts in.

“She’s the one who knows which card it is and how to get the Cup out,” the blond boy replies.

Izzy nods in understanding, but Alec is still not convinced that this is such a good idea. Before he can voice his concern, however, his brother is off after Clary. He pulls the phone from her hand and gives them a short nod. Then they vanish inside the station, while Alec and Isabelle are left standing outside, looking at each other.

“Come on, big brother. We just need a security card to get into the power storage. It’ll be a piece of cake,” Izzy says, slapping his shoulder and heading for the doors. Alec sighs, but quickly makes to catch up with her.

In the main hall, he notices a uniformed officer sitting at a table, handing out information to visitors. She seems like the best target to get an I.D. card from, so Alec addresses his sister. “Okay, I’m guessing you’re the distraction?”

Izzy follows his line of sight. “Nope,”, she answers, looking back at him. “I’ve decided to grow up, remember? No more distracting for me.” She turns around again and smiles wickedly. “Besides, I don’t think I’m her type.”

It takes Alec a second to realize what she’s talking about. Somehow it didn’t occur to him that while Isabelle is attractive and makes many heads turn on an every-day-basis, this woman doesn’t look like she will let Izzy’s charms distract her.

“Oh, crap.” He hates being the distraction and with his sister and Jace there, he never really has to do it himself. He self-consciously straightens his jacket, suddenly wanting to be far, far away from here.

“Don’t worry,”, his sister says, “it’s good practice.”

He looks at her distractedly, his pulse already increasing. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to use his body to his advantage when it comes to fighting, but this… is just not his area of expertise. “Huh?”

“You know, for asking out Magnus?” Izzy’s smile is wicked, the same knowing look in her eyes she’s had earlier when she found him after reading Magnus’ text. He just gives her a pointed look, making her chuckle.

Before he can admonish her or deny to know what she’s talking about, her hands are at his shirt, warm fingertips brushing against his chest. “What are you… what are you doing?” he asks slightly panicked, trying to push her hands away and keeping his open shirt closed.

“Unbuttoning your shirt. What’s it look like I’m doing?” his sister replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She pulls the collar of his jacket up, patting his shoulders.

“Izzy, this is not really my department,” he tries without much success, buttoning his shirt up again.

“Come on,” she sighs, her hands fisted in his jacket, “we do this sort of stuff all the time.”

“You do, I don’t!” he protests, staring at her disbelievingly.

“It’s easy,” she says, trying to sound reassuring. There is so much confidence in her gaze that Alec doesn’t really have time to think about it. He looks back at the police woman and takes a deep breath. He should probably count himself lucky that it is a woman and not a handsome man sitting at that desk, because if Izzy had still refused to be the distraction, he would have had to flirt his way through with a _guy_. And Alec doesn’t think that he’d have been able to. His interactions with Magnus have proven his inaptitude to talk to hot guys.

Still doing his shirt buttons up, he moves toward the desk. He can hear Izzy’s encouraging words from behind him, but tries to pay her no attention. She’s having too much fun with this as it is.

Before Alec can talk himself out of it, he plasters a big smile on his face and leans forward, putting his hands on the officer’s desk. “Hey,” he says, hoping to sound genuinely excited and not as fake as he does to his own ears.

The woman looks up at him. “Can I help you?” Her tone doesn’t suggest that she’s going to swoon at his feet at any moment.

“Yeah, um,” he stutters, “you come here often?” The are-you-kidding-me expression on her face says it all and Alec mentally wants to kick himself for that cheap line. Not even Jace or Izzy could have made that line work.

“I work here,” the officer replies, her whole demeanor already annoyed and slightly dismissive. “What can I help you with?”

“Right, um,” Alec splutters, quickly letting his eyes sweep across the table. His mind is racing, trying to come up with a way to get the I.D. card, which lies conveniently close to the desk’s edge, to Izzy. “Right, right, right, yeah, um… Yeah, I’m just… I’m looking for some information.”

He can sense that she’s about to be fed up with him and send him away, when he spots the open water bottle. An idea flashes through his head and he quickly reaches out for the box of brochures to her left. “Oh, look…” He deliberately knocks over the bottle, water spilling out over her files.

“Oh, wow, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, while she reaches for the bottle, trying to contain the mess. “Let me just get that.”

The officer turns away, gathering up some of the files, and Alec uses her moment of distraction to fling out the I.D. card towards Isabelle, who catches it easily in her hand and keeps moving without anyone noticing.

Alec is still apologizing to keep the police woman focused on him. “That’s such a mess. Let me clean that up. Uh, it’s not working.”

The officer slaps his hands away. “Here, let me. I got it. Just go.” She’s clearly pissed off now.

“You sure?” Alec asks. “Thank you so much.” He gathers up a few brochures as cover. With a last smile, he quickly makes his escape. He hides behind the staircase, keeping an eye out for the officer and his sister. His heart is still beating quickly in his chest, but a small part of him almost enjoyed that quick interaction.

It only takes Izzy a few minutes and suddenly all lights go out. Visitors and police alike look around confused, raised voices coming from the floors above. Alec keeps waiting and then Izzy stalks back into the main hall. “All done.”

“Great,” Alec says. “Now what?”

“Let’s wait outside. I’m sure Jace and Clary won’t be long.”

They find a secluded spot in front of the police station that keeps them hidden but still allows them to watch the entrance. Around the station, more police vehicles arrive, officers swarm in and out of the building, all trying to locate the reason for the sudden power outage.

“Well? That was fun, wasn’t it?” Izzy asks excited, giving him a big smile.

Alec rolls his eyes, folding his arms. “I don’t get how you and Jace always love being the distraction.” He’s not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting that he did have fun.

His sister snickers and lightly bops her fist to his upper arm. “It’s just great. Getting to manipulate someone like that has its advantages, believe me. Admittedly, this time it didn’t quite go as planned, but that whole thing with the water bottle was genius. So good job, big brother.”

Alec just grumbles unintelligibly.

“What did you say to her, anyway? The look on her face was priceless when you first approached the desk.”

He knows that she will laugh if he tells her the truth, but even now he can’t come up with a better line. “I said: ‘Do you come here often?’”

Izzy stares at him for a second, probably trying to figure out whether or not he is pulling her leg, but then she starts laughing, just like he expected.

Alec gives her a few moments, huffing annoyed. “Are you done?” he asks eventually, while Izzy wipes a tear from her left eye.

“Oh Alec, life would be horrible without you.”

“I’m glad you can enjoy yourself at my expense,” he mumbles, feeling a bit hurt but not wanting to show it.

As if she can read his mind, his sister sobers up quickly and leans against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she says, sounding genuine. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

She looks up at him, her dark eyes radiating warmth and love. When she looks at him like that, he can never stay angry at her for long. He nods once, and she throws her arm around his shoulder, not quite reaching the other one.

“But admit it, you just had a tiny bit of fun, didn’t you?”

Alec hesitates, but finally relents and nods once. Izzy’s answering smile is radiant.

They sit in silence for a while, darkness falling around them. There’s still no sight of Jace or Clary and Alec is just wondering how much longer it will take them, when realizes Izzy has asked him something.

“That text earlier… Was that from Magnus?”

Part of him doesn’t want to answer her, wants to keep everything about Magnus a secret, close to his chest, but eventually he nods. It’s not like Izzy doesn’t already know anyway.

“So, what did you guys really do last night?” she asks carefully.

Alec shrugs, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. “Like I said, we healed Luke and then Magnus made cocktails.”

“Nothing more?”

He turns to look back at his sister, her whole face struggling to contain her intense curiosity. She doesn’t want to force him to spill his secrets, but he knows she’s desperate for some information.

“What do you mean, more? We talked and then I left.”

She narrows her eyes at him, still somewhat skeptical. “So you didn’t…?”

“’Didn’t what’, Iz? I didn’t make out with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not even… I don’t… No.” He gets up, clenching his fists at his sides. Izzy watches him carefully, while he paces back and forth. “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t even know what it is I’m feeli- “

Alec breaks off again. Part of him wants to just say it, admit that there is something about Magnus that makes his heart beat faster, but if he does, even if he just admits it to his sister, who knows him probably better than anyone, including Jace, then he can never take it back. And Alec doesn’t know if he wants anyone to hold that kind of power over him.

“Alec- ” Izzy begins, but a movement draws his attention away from her.

“It’s them,” Alec interrupts, pointing to the station’s exit. Clary and Jace just rushed out of it, so the Lightwoods quickly move to meet them, their conversation forgotten for now.

 

///

 

Alec waits a few minutes before lowering his bow arm. He expected the demons to catch up with them quickly, but so far, none has shown its ugly face at the door to the maintenance tunnels. He debates whether or not to start following the others to the Institute, when he hears a noise. Raising his bow again, he aims at the entrance. A moment later, it is pushed open and a tall figure looms in the doorway, its face hidden in the shadows.

In the end, Alec isn’t sure why he doesn’t fire immediately, but when the figure takes a step forward and a familiar voice asks: “Alec?”, he’s glad that he didn’t send an arrow flying.

Luke walks down the few steps towards him, looking worried. “Where’s Clary?”

Alec lowers his bow and points over his shoulder. “Jace and Izzy took her back to the Institute. I stayed behind to keep the demons away.”

The werewolf nods. “I have my pack on the lookout. We should be save for now.”

“There might still be some in the tunnels,” Alec replies. “I don’t know how far the others made it. They might need our help.”

“Then let’s go find them.”

The two men move through the tunnels, always on alert for potential demon attacks, but everything stays quiet. It seems that the werewolf pack has managed to fight them all off.

Suddenly, they hear the soft murmur of voices and Luke stops Alec in his tracks.

“Did you hear that?”

Alec nods, and they both quietly make their way towards it. Turning the corner, they see Clary standing there, Seraph blade in hand, her shoulders shaking. After the initial distrust from her, they manage to calm her down. Alec grudgingly has to hand it to her for killing a demon all on her own, especially keeping in mind how untrained she still is.

The three of them make their way through the tunnels, eventually finding a ladder that leads them back to the surface. Alec walks a bit ahead, while Luke and Clary are immersed in quiet conversation. She tells him about the tarot cards and that she’s managed to get the Cup out to drive away a demon earlier in the tunnels. Alec is relieved that at least the whole mission wasn’t a failure. Hopefully his parents will see it the same way.

When they reach the Institute, Luke stops walking.

“What’s wrong?” Clary asks, turning back to him.

“This is as far as I can go. Without the invitation of a Shadowhunter, I’m not allowed on the Institute’s grounds,” the werewolf explains. “Besides, you’re save now and I have to get back to the pack. And there’s an internal investigation I still have to deal with.”

Alec watches as he kisses his adoptive daughter on the head, and turns away to give them some privacy. He pushes open the double doors and waits for Clary to follow him.

“What about the others?” she asks him, while they make their way to the ops center.

“I don’t think Jace or Izzy were still down there, so I’m guessing they’re here somewhere.”

Sure enough, when they turn the corner, Jace is giving instructions to his fellow Shadowhunters.

“Right now, Clary is the only thing that matters,” Alec hears his brother say. A sharp sting shoots through his body at those words. Clary calls out and rushes into Jace’s arms as soon as he turns around towards her. Alec watches their interaction, when he feels Izzy’s presence next to him.

His brother doesn’t even deign him with a look, while his sister tries to catch his eyes, putting her hand on his where it’s gripping the banister. “Are you okay?” she asks him quietly.

He nods, quickly looking her over. Not a hair out of place, so she seems okay.

Just when Alec turns back to look at Clary and Jace, the redhead pushes up on her tiptoes and kisses his brother right on the mouth. He seems taken aback for the fraction of a second before he enthusiastically returns the kiss. It quickly moves from soft to passionate.

It’s like the ground has opened up beneath Alec’s feet and his stomach drops. A cold shiver chases down his back and he swallows around the knot in his throat. His heart suddenly feels heavy in his chest, beating out a truly painful staccato against his ribs. Part of him doesn’t want to look away from the kiss, which feels like it’s ripping his heart in two, but he knows he can’t keep staring at them.

Desperately trying to school his features back into what hopefully resembles an indifferent expression, he can feel Izzy’s fingers against his when he turns away from his brother. He pushes away from the glass banister, quickly checking if anyone has noticed his behavior. To him, it feels incredibly obvious, but nobody, except his sister, his paying him any attention.

With a queasy feeling in his stomach, Alec hurries out of the ops center towards his room. He just needs to get away from everyone, get some fresh air. Slamming his bedroom door closed behind him, he moves towards his small balcony. He sits down on the floor where he can’t be seen from his room and, pulling his knees to his chest, leans his head back against the stony balustrade.

The vast night sky takes in his whole field of vision, most stars’ light drowned out by the glaring flares from the city. The moon is hidden somewhere behind the Institute’s roof, so he sits in relative darkness. Alec feels somewhat detached from his body, like he is floating just outside of it.

He knows that Jace was never his, could have never even been his, but it still hurts more than it ever has before. Perhaps it’s because somehow Alec knows that what is between Clary and his brother is real and means more to Jace than any of the girls he’s been with before. With them, at least, Alec always knew that he was more important to his _parabatai_ , that his brother would drop them at a moment’s notice for him. But if he has to compete for Jace’s attention with Clary, he’s now convinced he would get the short end of the stick. This girl, although only having been part of their world for a little over a week, has turned his brother’s head like no other ever has.

Alec can feel a stinging sensation in his eyes and roughly wipes his hands across his face. He is _not_ going to cry now. The last time he cried he had been six years old. His parents had left them alone in Hodge’s care for the first time. He still remembers his mother’s stern face when she looked down at him, seeming incredible tall in her high heels in Alec’s memory. She told him to stop crying, while his father said to watch out for his sister and be a good boy. And then, just like that, they were gone, off to Idris on Clave business. He had stopped crying when Izzy had started to cry too, being upset at her brother’s emotional outbreak. Alec had never cried again after that, wanting to prove himself worthy of his parents’ trust, proving that he was a good boy who could protect others.

Now, he wonders why he always needs to be the one to protect everyone else and why apparently no one cares whether or not he’s okay. Just as Izzy said, it hadn’t been the first time he saved his brother’s life, but usually, Jace would at least thank him and also care for his safety. This time he didn’t even notice Alec standing right there, behind Clary.

He puts his arms on his raised knees and lays his head down, trying to shut off his mind. He doesn’t want to think about all this anymore, knowing that there’s nothing he can do about it. Clary is in their lives, in Jace’s life, whether he likes it or not, and she is more important to his brother now than Alec is. He has lost him, to a certain extent, and things probably won’t go back to the way they used to be, back when Clary Fairchild was still just Clary Fray.

A soft clacking sound reaches his ears through the thoughts whirling in his head, but he doesn’t look up. He knows it’s his sister, who hovers over him for a moment, before sitting down next to him on the cold floor. She doesn’t say anything, and Alec is thankful for that.

Izzy puts her head on his shoulder and starts humming a song their mother used to sing to them when they were little. She’s a terrible singer, but the familiar notes are still a comfort.

Alec doesn’t know how long they’re sitting like this, Isabelle humming, her warmth radiating towards him, and him just breathing quietly, listening to her. It might be an hour or just ten minutes, but eventually the cold floor and night air around them makes him shiver.

He sits up, leaning back against the banister and turns to look at Izzy. She watches him, her eyes shining like black gemstones in the darkness, reflecting the nearby lights from Manhattan.

“I’m here,” she whispers, but still sounding loud in the otherwise silence of his balcony. Even the noises from the city seem somewhat distant through the glamour surrounding the Institute.

“I know,” he answers and leans forward to place a kiss to her forehead. Alec doesn’t need to say anything more, knowing that his sister understands his silent gratitude regardless.

She gives him a small smile, her teeth looking whiter than usual against the contrast of her dark red lips. He tries to return it, but it only comes out as a quick, slightly crooked smile.

He feels a vibration against his leg and moves his frozen hands to pull out the phone from his pocket. The display’s light is too bright against the darkness surrounding them, but he opens the new text anyway.

_Alexander, dearest, when I said ‘give me a call’, I didn’t mean in a few days or weeks, you know. I was talking more about hours. So, give me a call. xoxo Magnus_

Alec knows Izzy is reading over his shoulder and he makes no move to hide the phone from her. He’s too tired to keep this part of himself hidden, especially from his sister, who knows about his… feelings anyway. She’s known longer than perhaps even he has.

“Call him, Alec.”

And Alec wants to, he really does. But he knows that he’s not in the right mind set to deal with the enigmatic warlock tonight. Not after the emotional whirlwind he’s just been through. So he puts his phone back in his pocket and leans his head back to look at the sky.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Izzy regards him for a long while, but eventually nods and puts her head back on his shoulder, directing her gaze to the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnus is back for the next chapter, I promise. I generally noticed a certain lack of our favorite High Warlock in season one. Luckily, season two doesn’t treat him quite so dismissively. 
> 
> I'm trying to stick to this routine of publishing once or twice a week. I also live for kudos, comments and constructive criticism. Thanks for all the love!
> 
> Come find me at light-in-the-wood.tumblr.com. xxx


	5. Bad Decisions, Blood and Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I got a little confused with the time line and how much time has actually passed between episodes 7 and 8. It seems unlikely that it’s still the same night, maybe a few hours later. No one has gone to sleep at all, but they’ve all changed clothes…? I hope the way I wrote it makes sense somehow. 
> 
> I also tried something a little different perspective-wise this time. Let me know how you like it. Also, I’m struggling a bit with the whole Lydia-situation, but she’s in the show, so I need to include her. 
> 
> You might also have noticed that I upped the rating a bit, just in case. Warning for canon-typical violence, but it’s nothing too bad. (The rating will most likely go further up later in the story. Just a little heads up.)
> 
> Happy reading. <3

When Alec feels his sister start to shiver next to him, he decides that it’s time to get up. It has gotten colder in the last half hour and midnight has come and gone. He nudges Izzy gently and she jerks up from where she has dozed off against his shoulder.

“Time to go to bed, little sister,” he says quietly, stretching his legs out in front of him. They feel stiff from having been kept in the same position for so long, his muscles protesting the sudden change. Izzy groans tiredly, craning her neck back and forth.

Alec gets to his feet, stretching his arms over his head and then puts his hand out for Izzy to hold on to. He pulls her up and quickly ushers her inside the bedroom. It’s not much warmer inside, what with the heating off, but at least the wind that has picked up a while ago gets shut outside when Alec closes the balcony door. Izzy turns the lamp on his bedside table on. The soft glow throws dark shadows against the walls and baths the room in a yellow glow.

Isabelle yawns, stretching her body like a cat. She looks at Alec with a thoughtful expression, her eyes seeming nearly black in the faint light of the lamp. Alec returns her gaze and gives her a small nod.

“I’m good, Iz. Go to sleep.”

She hesitates, arms crossed in front of her chest, and bites her lip. Alec steps towards her and steers her gently to the door. “Good night, Isabelle.”

He tries a smile, but judging from the look she’s giving him, it’s not very convincing. Nevertheless, she lets herself be pushed out of the room. Before Alec can close the door in her face, though, she puts her hand out to stop him. “Just promise me…”

She breaks off, looking unsure all of a sudden. They stare at each other and Alec can’t quite put his finger on what she’s referring to. Eventually, Izzy pulls his chin down and plants a kiss on his cheek. He closes his eyes for a second, the scent of her flowery perfume tickling his nose, then straightens back up to pull away. His sister lets go, and smiles up at him.

“Good night, Alec.”

“Good night.” When she spins around on her heels to head to her own room, he quietly adds: “Thank you.” She looks over her shoulder, winking, and then vanishes behind a corner.

Alec closes his door and leans his forehead against it for a moment. His breath comes out in short puffs, heart thumping away in his chest. He feels almost lightheaded and doesn’t quite know why. The day was just too much. Jace and he are still not okay, Clary continues to be a pain in the ass, his parents want him to marry some stranger, and then, of course, there’s Magnus. He feels like he’s being pulled in two dozen directions, stretched thin by the demands made of him.

A loud rap at his door startles him from his thoughts. He wonders if Izzy decided to make him talk after all, but when he opens the door, it’s his mother standing there in the corridor, arms folded. Her expression is anything but pleased and she eyes him up with a stern look.

“Good, you’re still awake.”

It’s past midnight, but Alec is not surprised that she wouldn’t have a problem with waking him up at a time like this. “Yes, sorry, Mother. I meant to come to your office earlier, but Jace needed some back-up. He and Clary are both back at the Institute, like you ordered.”

He is too tired to come up with an explanation on why it took them so long, so he sends out a silent prayer that she won’t pry deeper into what they have been up to tonight. A quiet voice in the back of his mind wonders why he doesn’t mention that they have found the Mortal Cup.

Maryse narrows her eyes, so he tries to keep his expression neutral and open. It wouldn’t do him any good to upset his mother any further. Eventually, she rubs a hand across her face, exhaustion clear in the dark circles under her eyes.

“Fine. We will talk about this in the morning then. But word of advice: next time, I expect you to follow my instructions immediately, not when you find it convenient.”

She doesn’t wait for his reply, turning on her heels and stalking away in the same direction Izzy vanished in only minutes earlier.

Alec suppresses an annoyed sigh, closing his bedroom door once more. Hopefully, his mother will be the last visitor tonight. Deciding to take a quick shower before bed, he moves towards his bathroom and turns on the switch.

The fluorescent light seems harsh against Alec’s pale face when he bends over the basin to look in the mirror. He has circles under his eyes, which appear dark, almost black, instead of his usual hazel-green. His dark hair is a wild mop on his head, some strands hanging across his forehead in messy disarray. Magnus would never be caught dead looking like this, tired, worn out and disheveled. Alec pushes the thought of the warlock to the back of his mind and turns on the faucet. He splashes some water in his face and then methodically takes of his clothes. When he steps into the shower, the first spray of water hitting his chest is ice cold, making Alec shiver once again. It takes a moment for the old pipes to bring warmer water, but he forces himself to stand under it anyway. His hair surrounds his head in a sleek, wet mess, water running in rivulets down his pale body. The runes on his arms and chest stand in stark contrast to his otherwise light skin.

Trying not to think about anything in particular, Alec focusses his thoughts on quickly washing his hair and body. He just wants to go to bed and not have his mind try to play that kiss between Jace and Clary on repeat in front of his inner eye.

Shutting off the water, Alec steps out of the shower. He stands there for a moment, dripping, shoulders hunched and hands fisted at his sides. Looking to the floor, his eyes zero in on his phone peeking out of his discarded jeans. Without toweling himself off, he bends down to pick it up. Magnus’ text is still open when he unlocks the screen. Alec hesitates, reading it over and over again. Part of him wants to call the warlock now, hear his voice and have it drive away the thoughts of his brother and Clary. But another part feels that that would be unfair towards Magnus. He’s not a consolation price, and Alec doesn’t want to use him as a distraction. Sighing, he puts his phone down again and gets out a towel.

When he’s dressed in old sweatpants and a washed-out shirt with a hole at the hemline, he crawls into bed, finally being able to relax a bit. He reaches over to turn off the lamp, but his eyes fall back to the phone he put on the bedside table when he put away his clothes. He picks it up once again, turning it over in his hands, unsure how to proceed.

In the end, Alec opens Magnus’ text, writes out a simple line and hits reply before he can think about it too much. Then he switches the phone off completely, turns off the lights and rolls over, pulling his duvet over his shoulder. He’s asleep within minutes.

 

///

 

Magnus sits on his couch, a book in one hand and a drink in the other. It’s late and he should probably turn down for the night, maybe after he finishes this chapter.

A sudden noise makes him look up. His phone vibrates on the table in front of the sofa, signaling an incoming text. He wonders who would write him at an hour like this and puts his book down to pick up the phone. A huge smile spreads across his face when he reads the short line.

_I will. Good night. Alec_

Alexander. He is the most intriguing Shadowhunter Magnus has ever met, and he’s had his fair share of dealing with the demon hunting kind during his long life. There was Will, of course, whose eyes had been so much like Alec's, and dear Jem. He considered them friends, but Downworlders like him interacting with Shadowhunter like them had never been viewed favorably.

But Alec… Alec is different, especially for a Lightwood. He seems a conundrum, a collection of contradictions. Aiming to please everyone and following orders, yet raised to be a leader. Allowing his friends liberties he would never take for himself. Trying to protect others and take a beating, but having no regard for his own safety or happiness. It’s as if it only comes as an afterthought to him, that oh, perhaps he could take things for himself once in a while.

Magnus had been pleasantly surprised when Alec had stayed for another drink the other night. It’s hard to get the young Shadowhunter to open up, but Magnus is nothing if not persistent. He still worries about coming on to strong, especially with sending those texts, but he knows Alec won’t make the first step. His whole upbringing and culture has taught the boy to repress his feelings and not openly admit, not even to himself, that he is gay.

Magnus knows from his own experience how hard it is to be afraid of being open and honest about oneself. It took him years to come to terms with his parentage, and although that is a different matter altogether, he knows Alec’s thought process is probably somewhat similar.

Reading the text again, Magnus smiles to himself. Maybe it is the right thing to push Alec a bit, get him out of his comfort zone. It’s the only way to get the young Shadowhunter to open up to him a bit more. He thinks about answering, but eventually decides against it. The ball is still in Alec’s court, after all.

Finishing his drink, he heads towards his bedroom, an easy spring in his step and a smile on his face.

 

///

 

Alec wakes hours before sunrise the next morning and is in the training room before anyone else is even up. He punches hard and fast, powering himself out to stop his mind, still a little fuzzy from a dreamless sleep, to start spinning. He hasn’t looked at his phone yet, therefore doesn’t know if Magnus ever replied to his text.

Usually, Jace joins him for a short sparring session in the morning, but he remains notably absent today. Maybe it’s too early yet.

But when Alec gets to the ops center after wolfing down his breakfast, Jace and Clary are already there, discussing the Cup. He keeps his back turned to them, focusing instead on the security screen keeping track of the Institute’s wards. It’s a slow morning, sunrise still about an hour away, and only a handful of Shadowhunters from the nightshift are still mingling about.

Alec hasn’t really had time to think about it, but now that they have the Cup in their possession, he is sure that it is only a question of time until Valentine will try and steal it from them. He already sent his men and demons after them to get his hands on the Mortal Instrument once before. Next, he will attack the Institute as a large, if he has to.

But his demand of giving the Cup to the Clave falls on deaf ears with Jace and Clary. Part of Alec gets that she wants to use it to save her mother, but, as Izzy agrees, the Cup is too important and powerful to just stash it in her messenger bag.

Despite his doubts, he lets himself get talked into keeping the Cup hidden from the Clave. Alec tells himself that by putting it in his safe, at least he knows where it is and can keep an eye on it. He rebuffs Clary’s gratitude, however, when she tries to thank him for helping her. The air between them is as frosty as ever, their short moment of shared mirth at Magnus’ the other night forgotten. Alec can’t help but be angry at the redhead for turning his whole world upside down since stepping into all of their lives. He’s had to deal with more heat from his parents and, most importantly, his _parabatai_ since she showed up than ever before.

Suddenly, a loud alarm draws everyone’s attention. A look on the security screen reveals a break in the wards, exactly what he has feared. Jace, Izzy and Alec quickly make their way to the church’s courtyard, Clary hurrying after them after a brief moment’s hesitation.

It’s still dark outside, a cloud of mist rolling above the ground and everything chillingly quiet. The light of a single street lamp casts eerie shadows on the stony walls overgrown with climbing ivy.

Weapons drawn, the Shadowhunters turn the corner. Izzy walks ahead, the light of her Seraph blade bathing her face in a cold, white light. Jace is on her right, sword at the ready, while Alec flanks her left, bow drawn and prepared to shoot.

A dimly lit figure moves through two columns, its back turned towards them.

“Don’t move!” Jace calls out, stepping forward.

Alec aims an arrow at the figure, which seems to carry something large in its arms. “Drop what you’re holding. Put your hands up!”

The apparition turns around, just as Clary arrives in their midst. Alec recognizes the vampire right away. It’s the one they encountered at the Hotel Dumort a while ago, Raphael. He is carrying what turns out to be a body. Just at that moment, the street lights lamp hits its face and Alec heart lurches. Tussled brown hair, glasses askew on his pale face, and quite obviously dead. It’s the mundane, Clary’s friend. Simon.

He lowers his bow in shock, just as he can see Izzy and Jace do the same from the corner of his eye. His sister takes in a shaky breath just as Clary gasps out loud. “Oh my God, Simon!”

For once, Alec is at a loss of words. Clary screams and drops her Seraph blade, rushing towards Simon.

“What have you done?” she yells, hands grasping at the mundane’s shirt and face. Jace is next to her in an instance, blade drawn once more.

“Explain yourself, vampire!” he bites out between clenched teeth.

“I didn’t do this,” Raphael says calmly, clutching Simon’s lifeless body closer to his chest when Clary tries to pry his hands off her friend. “I will explain everything, but perhaps we should take this somewhere private? I’m not too keen on being seen by any other Shadowhunters.”

Izzy scoffs, but when Alec looks at her, he sees her shoulders shaking. She hasn’t raised her blade again, and her hands tremble at where she is holding on to the hilt, knuckles white from the force she’s using.

Alec throws a look over his shoulder, because part of him agrees with the vampire. They need to get out of the courtyard before anyone else find them here. He exhales once, shouldering his bow. “I know a place. Follow me.”

He turns around and leads the little group back to an old storage room in a rather hidden part of the basement. It is filled with old furniture, books and other trinkets which the Institute has accumulated over the decades. Alec can hear Clary’s quiet sobs somewhere behind him, as well as Izzy’s heels clacking against the floor. Jace is silent, a somber expression on his face when Alec looks back for a moment.

Raphael lays Simon down on a table in the middle of the room. Alec hesitates, wanting to hear the vampire’s explanation as much as the others, but knowing that their continued absence will not go over unnoticed.

Jace seems to have the same thought, because he looks over at his brother at that moment. “People will be wondering what we found inside the perimeter.”

Alec nods. “I’ll go. I’ll tell them we didn’t find anything. Nobody will come down here.” With a last look back at the others, he heads back up the staircase and makes his way to the ops center.

As soon as he enters the room, Michael, a fellow Shadowhunter, turns to him. “Alec, there you are. Did you investigate that alarm? What happened?”

Alec takes of his jacket and hangs it over the back of a chair. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looks at Michael with his best non-nonsense expression and shrugs. “No idea. We didn’t find anything. Must have been a false alarm.”

Michael seems skeptical. “That’s weird.”

“It is,” Alec agrees. “Maybe it was a group of werewolf kids again. They did play a prank on us a while back, remember? Trying to get as close to the doors as possible without getting caught?” He’s glad that this has actually happened before, and as far as Alec knows, Michael had already been at the New York Institute back then.

Just as he hopes, Michael’s expression clears and he chuckles. “Ah, right. Must’ve been it.” Alec lets out a breath he hasn’t realized he was holding and closes his eyes for a moment.

“Oh, before I forget, your mother wants to see you, Jace and Isabelle. She came in here a few minutes ago and, ah… well, she didn’t look happy.”

Alec curses his luck. It had somehow completely slipped his mind that she still wanted to talk to him. Her late visit last night had been enough indication that the whole issue with Clary and Jace hasn’t been resolved yet.

“Thanks, I’ll go see her now,” he replies, dismissing Michael with a nod of his head.

Carding a hand through his hair, he debates whether or not he should go back down to the basement to get Jace and Izzy, but just then his sister walks in. Her eyes zero in on him and she nudges her head towards a secluded area behind one of the security screens.

“Raphael said Camille was working on her own. She attacked and killed Simon,” his sister whispers when they huddle together to keep their conversation private.

“Why would he even go back there in the first place?” Alec asks, arms folded and head bowed towards her.

The corners of Izzy’s mouth turn down and she looks pained, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Apparently, Camille made him drink her blood when he was at the Hotel Dumort, to get him to talk. That’s why he went back there. She basically made him addicted to it.” She takes a deep breath. “We should have realized something was wrong.”

Alec shakes his head immediately. “This is not our fault, Iz.”

“He’s just a boy, Alec. He doesn’t know this world. We should’ve looked out for him, just as we did for Clary.”

His sister has a point and it doesn’t sit well with Alec. He rubs his neck in discomfort, feeling guilt claw at his insides. Perhaps Izzy is right and they should have realized that the mundane was acting strange. Alec thinks back to their visit at Clary’s apartment, when Simon could suddenly see the runes. That should have made him suspicious, but he was too focused on being angry at Clary that his mind didn’t add two and two together.

“What now?” he asks quietly, casting a searching look on Izzy’s face.

“He’s a fledgling. Raphael said Clary needs to decide whether she’s going to stake him or let him rise as a vampire.” Her voice breaks at the last word, and she wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

Alec clenches his jaw, looking around to see if anyone has noticed them standing together and whispering like this. But everyone is busy and no one pays them any attention.

“She should let him die. I don’t think the mundane- “

“Simon!” Izzy interrupts.

“That _Simon_ would’ve wanted to, well, live like this,” Alec amends.

The fact that she is not disputing him right away tells him a lot about her current mindset. “He’s her friend. She loves him. Would you rather let someone die than keep them, even like this?”

Alec wants to say yes, but the word is stuck in his throat. He just doesn’t know what he would do, so he keeps his mouth shut and simply shrugs.

They remain standing like this for a moment, each occupied with their own thoughts, when Alec finally breaks the silence. “I hate to spring this on you now, but Mom asked to see us. Jace, too, actually, but I think he should stay with Clary for the time being.”

Isabelle rolls her eyes and sighs. “Just great. Well, then we’d better not keep her waiting any longer, big brother.” She gives him what is probably supposed to be an encouraging smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Alec feels the same way. Whatever his mother has to talk to them about, doesn’t bode well for either of them.

 

///

 

Technically, Izzy and Alec work well together while their parents share the news about the envoy from the Clave. They have each other’s backs when it comes to covering for Jace and getting involved, yet again, in Downworlder affairs. But when they are finally dismissed, feeling once again like insolent children, Alec is fuming inside.

Over all the emotional ups and downs with Jace and Magnus, he feels that he has lost sight of what is really important, somehow. His family’s name is being dragged through the mud, and once again their loyalty and honor are being put into question. Alec is no fan of Clave politics, but he knows how hard his parents, generations before them really, have worked to get the Lightwoods to where they are now. His father keeps repeating that the deed itself is what really counts when it comes to family honor, and Alec feels even guiltier for contributing to the mistrust now being placed on them all.

While his mother takes Isabelle aside for another hushed conversation, Alec gives his father an understanding nod and heads off to the ops center.

“Alec!” He stops in his tracks when he sees his little brother race towards him. “I’ve been looking for you!” Max gives him a big, toothy smile and looks up at him.

“Let’s keep walking, Max, I have work to do,” Alec says, indicating his brother to follow him. He shortens his strides to allow Max to keep up, the little Shadowhunter trotting dutifully along next to him.

“So, what’s up, buddy?” They turn the corner and walk down the stairs of the ops center.

“You think you could get my stele back?” Max asks, sounding slightly sulkily.

Alec huffs. “They took it away because you nearly burned down the Mumbai Institute.” Part of him wants to chuckle at his little brother’s annoyed face, but he keeps it in so as not to provoke any more of Max’s mischievous behavior.

“How many times do I have to say that it was an accident?” he replies grumpily.

“Look, Max” Alec says, stopping him with a hand to the shoulder and squatting down before him, sighing. “Somebody very important is coming to visit, alright? You think you can stay out of trouble for just a couple of days? If you do, I promise I’ll get your stele back.”

It seems unfair to put any responsibility on his little brother’s small shoulders, and he can see it in Max’s light eyes that he doesn’t understand why he of all people is being punished. Alec would love nothing more than to admit that the unsanctioned missions he authorized have caused his parents to react, and also treat their youngest like a possible threat to the already damaged reputation of the Lightwood name.

Alec’s further response gets interrupted by the security doors at the Institute’s entrance opening. When he turns to look, the blood freezes in his veins at the sight of Valentine Morgenstern walking into their home.

Alec pushes Max behind him, his glamoured bow in his hand before he can even truly think about it. Without hesitation, he fires an arrow at the Circle leader, who easily catches it in his right hand before it can hit him in the face.

A sudden flicker around Valentine’s face makes Alec hesitate before attacking the man right away. Drawing out a stele, he moves it across his forearm and moments later, a young blonde woman is standing in his place. Her face is pretty, but stern, blue eyes looking at the collected group of Shadowhunters with disappointment. Her mouth is pulled into a straight line.

“That reaction time was abysmal,” she says, sighing. She walks towards them, regarding Alec with a contemplating look. “Except for you. I’m Lydia Branwell, envoy from the Clave.”

 

///

 

It’s like Lydia has hit him over the head with the Forsaken’s makeshift club when she accidentally tells Alec that his parents were members of the Circle. Part of Alec doesn’t want to believe her, but one look at Luke’s guilty expression confirms her statement. Alec stares at the both of them, totally in shock and unsure what to do. The Robert and Maryse he knows, who always follow the rules, who drilled in to him that the Law is sacred, those people were in the Circle with Valentine and others who wanted to destroy the Clave and kill all Downworlders? Admittedly, they have never encouraged Alec’s belief that Downworlders can be trusted, but over time, he learned for himself that not all are bad and his parents never actively tried to dispute those thoughts. Alec believes in the Clave’s directive that mundanes and law-abiding Downworlders needed to be protected, so that his parents were among those trying to overturn the Shadow World’s society seems both farfetched and at the same time weirdly plausible. Power and influence were always important to his parents, after all.  

Alec’s blood rushes in his ears, thinking back on his father’s earlier words: “The honor comes not from the name, but the deed.” The deed. And here he thought his actions had put the Lightwood name in a bad light, when in fact his parents’ decisions have contributed to the Clave’s quick mistrust of their family.

Lydia doesn’t try to talk to him on the way back to the Institute, and Alec is glad. He isn’t sure he wouldn’t snap at her and that is the last thing he needs to do now. Further pissing off the Clave’s envoy seems like a bad idea. So he keeps quiet when they transport the Forsaken back and move it to the laboratory.

After putting it on a slab, Lydia bends over to get a better look at the deformed body. “We need to make sure no magic was used to make this. I’m calling the nearest High Warlock to come in to consult.”

Alec, whose thoughts still spin around the revelations that came to light in the _Jade Wolf_ , looks up with wide eyes, heartrate picking up. There is only one warlock with that title in the closer New York vicinity. “Magnus Bane?” he asks nonetheless. “To… come here to the Institute?”

Lydia’s eyebrows draw together. “Yes. Is there a problem?”

Alec shakes his head, swallowing. “No. Not at all.” He tries to focus on the Forsaken and ignore his wildly beating heart. “Magnus is, um… quite magical.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. Alec wants to bite his tongue for letting a sentence like that escape him, and judging from Lydia’s surprised look, she is also questioning his sanity.

“He’s, uh, very… very good at magic,” Alec tries to correct himself, a furious blush creeping up his neck.

“Do you know him well?” Lydia asks.

He makes a non-committed noise. “Uh, just a little.”

“I actually can’t wait to meet him,” Lydia says, chuckling excitedly. “Did you know that my great ancestor, Henry Branwell, who was the last of the Branwells to run an Institute, and Magnus Bane invented the portal together?”

She gives him a radiant smile, white teeth shining beneath red lips. Her excitement reminds him yet again that there is apparently a lot he doesn’t know about the people surrounding him, including his parents and, as was to be expected, Magnus.

“No,” he replies with a stoic expression. “Just add that to the list of things I didn’t know.”

Lydia tries to apologize, but it’s not her Alec is angry with. His parents kept this from him his whole life, and here he thought they trusted him. But then again, looking back on it, no one in their right mind would want to embellish themselves with the actions of the Circle.

“Again, I’m sorry, Alec,” Lydia says, her eyes sincere. Alec simply nods, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Magnus should be here soon. Since you know him, would you care to assist with the examination?”

He knows she means it as a consolation, trying to placate him because of what he found out about his parents. But working with Magnus now is the last thing he wants to do. A small part of him would like nothing better than to get to see and talk to the warlock again, but his mind puts those thoughts to a halt. This is not the time to follow his emotions’ every whim. If he wants to protect the Institute and restore the Lightwood name, for Izzy and Max at the least, then he has to do what _needs_ to be done, not what he _wants_ to do. And being with Magnus lets him imagine a world where he is free of those restrictions, where he can be who he wants to be.

Alec clenches his fingers into fists, trying to suppress the war his heart and his head are raging in his body. In the end, he shakes his head at Lydia’s suggestion. “I’ll go get Izzy. She has more experience with forensics than I have.” And it’s true, his sister has always been more interested in the science side of things than him. Lydia nods and Alec turns on his heels, heading off to find his sister.

Izzy is in her room, playing cards with Max. They are so engrossed in their game that he has to knock on the open door to announce his presence.

“Alec!” Max calls out excitedly, waving him closer. “I’m beating Izzy at Concentration.”

Izzy smirks, waggling her eyebrows in Alec’s direction. He doesn’t have the heart to tell his little brother that their sister is only letting him win. “That’s great, buddy. I’m sorry to interrupt your game, but I need to borrow Izzy for a while.”

Max pulls a face, but as the youngest Lightwood, he is used to pulling the short end of the stick. “It’s okay, Max, I’ll be back later,” Izzy says, ruffling his hair affectionately.

Max pushes her hand away, grumbling something unintelligible, while Izzy chuckles and follows Alec out of the room.

“What’s up? Is this about the Forsaken attack?”

Alec nods. “It seems that Valentine send them to get to Luke. We brought a body back to the Institute. Lydia called Magnus in to consult, but you should be there. You have more experience with this sort of things than I do.”

Izzy stares at him, looking confused. “Well, I guess, but if Magnus is coming here, shouldn’t you be the one to…”

He doesn’t know what she sees on his face, but her voice trails off before she can finish her sentence. He stands very still, arms clasped behind his back, face as neutral and non-telling as possible, and lets her examine him for a moment.

Izzy is nothing if not intuitive, so although she clearly wants to say something, she presses her lips into a hard line and keeps quiet. “Fine. I’ll go deal with Magnus and the Forsaken.”

Alec squeezes her shoulder once, hoping it will convey his gratitude, and stalks off towards his room.

 

///

 

After his training session, which gets interrupted by Magnus, Alec still feels unsure about how to proceed. While he stands under the shower, he lets the warlock’s words wash over him again.

_Maybe you should start living for yourself._

Alec isn’t even sure what that entails. His whole life has been focused on doing everything his is told to, following the rules and upholding the Law. He tries to keep his siblings in line and be the responsible, reliable soldier his parents have brought him up to be. Yet in the end, they are not the people he thought them to be and now, thanks to them, the Lightwoods are suddenly at the end of the food chain. Izzy and Max, and even Jace, don’t deserve that. Alec decides that if it is within his power, he will do everything he can to restore their name and lead the Institute back to better times.

After he overhears Lydia’s conversation with Maryse and Robert, his resolve only grows. Although a part of him feels sorry for the way his parents are being treated, especially because he is partly responsible, he is more determined than ever to rectify their as well as his own mistakes and take back control over the Institute. If he doesn’t trust his parents, then he definitely doesn’t trust the Clave after everything that’s happened. His father is right when he thinks they should be focusing on locating Valentine rather than removing the Lightwoods from office.

In the end, he sees only one way to accomplish his goal. He can’t do it alone, but he knows someone who can help him. Although they’ve only just met today, Alec knows that Lydia and he are on the same level when it comes to the Law, as well as their sense of duty and honor. It is not what he imagined and it is certainly not what his parents imagined, but it’s a good match. When he explains his reasoning, she seems to be on board right away.

Alec gets down on one knee, feeling only a little bit silly, and asks her to marry him. He has never thought about what it would actually be like to propose to someone. Only two days ago, his parents arranged the marriage in his mind, making any sort of courtship unnecessary.

This now, however, feels more like a business transaction, a quid pro quo. Alec is not a romantic and he assumes neither is Lydia, at least not since John died, but part of him wishes it would feel like… _more_. His heartrate is only slightly elevated, probably from the adrenaline of doing something so unexpected. There is no flutter in his stomach and his face doesn’t feel heated. His hands are steady when he looks up at a stunned Lydia, waiting for her reply.

Despite their mutual understanding, she still seems a bit surprised by his rash decision. “Um, Alec. Are you sure? We’ve only just met.”

“I know. But I think we have a lot in common and will work well together,” he explains.

Lydia nods carefully, her eyes unreadable. “Well, I agree. We can both get something from this partnership. So if you’re a hundred percent sure, then yes, I’ll marry you.”

Alec lets out an expectant breath and gets up from the floor. Looking at her, he suddenly feels a bit awkward. Now what? Does he hug her? Kiss her? By the Angel, he has never kissed anyone and this doesn’t feel like the time to start practicing.

Luckily, Lydia gives him a warm smile and puts her hand on his upper arm. “How about we talk about the details tomorrow. I still need to go over Magnus’ preliminary results.”

He nods gratefully and hesitatingly pats her shoulder once in return. Then he makes a quick exit, before either of them can change their minds.

He is just making his way back to the ops center, when a faint clanking sound catches his attention. Stopping in his tracks, Alec strains his ears trying to determine where it’s coming from. Following the noise down a corridor, he quickly realizes that it seems to be originating from Hodge’s private training room. Through the translucent screens, he can see two body clashing against each other and he can hear grunting from the obvious sounds of a fight.

Rushing forward, Alec sends a silent prayer heavenwards that he is still carrying his glamoured bow and quiver. Holding his weapon at the ready, he turns the corner to find Hodge in battle with an armed Forsaken. He draws an arrow and sends it flying into the monster’s back.

It distracts the creature from beating his club down on Hodge, who has fallen to the ground, and makes it move its attention to Alec. A second arrow in the stomach doesn’t really slow it down, though, and Alec has no time to draw a third when the Forsaken is on him. From close range, he has no other weapon to defend himself with, so his opponent’s blow hits him right against his shoulder, a sharp pain shooting down his arm. The force of the hit sends him flying and the back of his head connects painfully with the hard floor. His vision swims for a moment and his ears are ringing. Alec knows he needs to get up, and quickly, but it is as if his limbs are not cooperating properly, like he is moving through thick molasses.

Something heavy hits the floor next to him when he tries to sit up. Looking over, he sees the Forsaken’s body, killed with swift moves by Hodge. At that moment, Isabelle comes running around the corner, still in her white lab coat, her a tangled mess around her face.

“Oh my God!” she calls out, falling to her knees beside him. “Alec, are you okay?”

His shoulder hurts like crazy, the hand he is pressing against it already wet from blood. Izzy helps him sit up properly, her worried expression going back and forth between him and Hodge, who leans over the dead Forsaken to check on Alec.

“Are you hurt?” the tutor asks, his breath coming out in quick puffs. Together with Izzy, they pull him to his feet. His sister is already fussing over his shoulder, where the black shirt is even darker from his blood. “Alec, say something,” Izzy demands, her voice sounding slightly panicked.

“I’m okay,” he croaks in answer, still clutching his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face.

“Let’s get you checked out at the infirmary. You definitely need an _iratze_ ,” Hodge says.

The three make their way to the hospital wing, Izzy steading Alec on his feet. His head feels a bit fuzzy, probably from where he crashed it against the floor, but he’s endured worse.

“Hodge, are _you_ okay?” Isabelle asks when they reach the infirmary and deposit Alec on the nearest bed.

Their tutor nods emphatically. “Don’t worry about me. Alec got there just in time. Hang on, I’ll go get your father. He’s a better healer than I am, and that looks like a nasty wound.”

Izzy has helped Alec out of his shirt and they all stare at the huge gash on his upper arm. “This is going to need more than a simple Healing rune”, she says, getting some gauze to wipe away the blood.

A few minutes later, Robert rushes in. He takes one look at his son and gets to work. Meanwhile, Izzy explains about the Forsaken’s blood and how the seelie properties seem to have allowed it to cross the wards undetected. Their father is not pleased, but Alec has a hard time focusing on that now.

The pain is receding, thanks to Robert’s work with the stele, but it is still a dull throbbing that will probably last for a day or two. The ringing of his phone distracts all three Lightwoods, but Isabelle takes it out of Alec’s hands before he can answer it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Magnus’ perspective is just really hard to write, that’s why I kept it pretty short. But there’s basically no Magnus in this chapter otherwise, so I wanted to include him somehow.
> 
> The response for the last chapter was great, thanks for all the comments and kudos. Keep ‘em coming. :D
> 
> I wrote this so much faster than I thought, but I can’t promise the next one being up as quickly as this one. Hang in there. Can’t wait till I get to 1x12!
> 
> Tumblr: light-in-the-wood. xxx


	6. Rising Up To Fall Down Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in updating, but episode 9 has really left me drained. I dislike so many of the decisions with a passion (not the actual writing, I’m just mad at a lot of the characters), so I had trouble making it all seem somewhat plausible. I tried my best, so let me know what you think of it.
> 
> Also, slight trigger warning for allusions to self-harm, although it’s pretty mild, I think. Just putting it here to be on the safe side.
> 
> As always, I’m looking forward to any comments and constructive criticism. Thanks for all the love so far. :D

Izzy takes the phone from Alec’s hand and leaves the room to tell Jace what has happened, while his father finishes up another _iratze_ , which he draws on his shoulder. It burns more than usual and he grits his teeth to avoid any pained noises coming from his mouth.

“This is all I can do for now,” Robert says, lowering his stele. “It will take at least a day for the wound to heal, so you have to change the dressing in the morning.” He pats Alec’s shoulder once.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Now, we need to do something about the wards. Is that warlock Lydia called still in the Institute?”

Alec tenses, shooting his father a quick look. But Robert just levels him with a questioning gaze. “I-I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“Then let’s go check.”

His father doesn’t wait for a reply and Alec hurries to go after him. It doesn’t take long to locate Magnus. He is still in the ops center, talking to Sara, a young Shadowhunter with a shock of dark brown, curly hair and big, green eyes. She’s giggling at something Magnus says, a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks. Magnus chuckles and winks at her, making something in Alec’s stomach clench uncomfortably while he watches them.

“Bane,” Robert calls out and the warlock turns his head their way. His eyes pass over Alec’s dad and quickly zero in on him. Magnus’ gaze drops to the bandage on his arm and Alec raises a hand to the wound self-consciously.

“What happened?” Magnus asks when he’s joined them on the elevated platform, eyes travelling to Alec’s arm again. He’s suddenly very close and Alec is suddenly aware of his state of half-undress. Granted, he was completely bare-chested only a little while earlier, but now he feels much more vulnerable under the warlock’s intense gaze. Magnus’ dark eyes flick back and forth between his face and his wound, and there is a twitch in his hand like he wants to touch Alec but is trying hard to hold back.

“A Forsaken breached the Institute’s wards and attacked Hodge.” Robert’s voice cuts through Alec’s thoughts. He quickly takes a step back, after noticing how close he is to Magnus.

“And Alec, I assume?”

Robert seems confused for a second, then nods at Magnus’ nudge towards the young Shadowhunter’s injury. “Yes, and Alec.” He looks over at his son, frowning, while Alec swallows nervously. He rubs his arm again, directing his eyes to his shoes.

“We need you to enforce the wards, so other Forsaken can’t get through,” his father continues. Alec can still feel Magnus’ gaze on him, but after Robert clears his throat, the warlock sighs and turns towards the stained-glass windows.

Alec watches, enraptured, as Magnus raises his arms, blue magic shooting from his hands. The air around them feels charged, suddenly, similar to when Alec had gone to Magnus’ apartment the night he had healed Luke. Although he stands a few feet behind the warlock, he can feel the heat radiating from his body, sparks flying from the tips of his fingers.

Magnus repeats a few movements with his hands, eventually drawing up different symbols that Alec knows to be in the warlocks’ language.

“Are the wards solid now?” Robert asks, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Nothing will get through?”

Magnus snaps his fingers and moves on to the next window. “Even my magic has limits,” he replies, an annoyed undertone in his voice. “The wards won’t hold off another Forsaken attack. But my protections will slow them down.”

He turns back to Robert, who looks at the windows thoughtfully. “Extra time is priceless.”

Magnus scoffs. “Well, say that _after_ you get my bill.”

Alec can’t help but smile at the warlock’s sarcasm. But it also reminds him that although Magnus has helped them a number of times in the past, he will still look out for his own benefit if it suits him. Alec can’t really fault him for it, but it sobers him up pretty quickly, wiping the hesitant smile off his face.

“Lydia will take care of that,” Robert tells Magnus, leaving the two of them alone on the platform.

The warlock smirks, looking after the older Shadowhunter, then turns his attention back to Alec. “A Forsaken wound often needs a little warlock TLC,” he says, stepping closer to him. “May I? Uh, free of charge.” He raises his hand towards Alec’s arm, who takes a hurried step back.

“It’s okay. I’m fine” he says quickly, looking around to see if anyone has noticed how close they are standing. Alec can still feel the magic radiating from the warlock, the air between them charged, electrically and with something else as well.

“If anything were to happen to you- “

“Magnus!” Alec interrupts. He can’t deal with this now. He can’t take the obvious worry in Magnus’ eyes or the hurt expression flickering across the other’s face at his quick rebuttal. “I’m good. Alright? I gotta- “

“Go?” It’s apparently Magnus’ turn to interrupt him. “Of course. You’re a busy man. And I should find this Lydia person. Payment upfront is just smart business. Where might I find her?”

A part of Alec is annoyed at how quickly the warlock pulls up his mask of flamboyant arrogance and sarcasm again, but it’s not like he is giving him any other option. Perhaps it is best, this way, them only dealing with each other on a professional level. Now that Alec is engaged to Lydia, he needs to cut the warlock out of his head once and for all. Besides, it’s not like anything can ever actually be between them. Not just because he needs to save his family name, but because of Magnus being a… warlock.

Alec feels his shutters close, rattling down around his heart. “I haven’t seen her. But if I do, I’ll send her your way.” He turns around before he can change his mind, and rushes off towards the training room.

It’s already late, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he needs to shut up the voices in his head and the emotions raging in his heart. He doesn’t bother with binding his hands and just attacks the punching bag with naked fists.

After a few hits, the pain in his wounded arm flares up again, but he ignores it and keeps punching. This isn’t the first time he has welcomed pain to distract his mind from other things. Alec doesn’t intentionally seek out the discomfort of an injury, but sometimes, if Izzy or Jace don’t pay enough attention, he will wait before using a healing rune and use the pain to help him think. His mind feels sharper, his thoughts clearer and if that helps him to ignore a problem, even better.

This time, however, he doesn’t get much peace of mind before his sister interrupts his training session. Alec tries to pay her no attention, but it’s hard to ignore her worried voice when he flinches after a particularly vicious punch against the training equipment.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Alec sighs, annoyed, and holds his arm close to his chest. A thin red line of blood has begun to seep through the bandage, so he turns his shoulder away from his sister. “I’m fine, Izzy.”

As soon as Jace turns up, though, things begin to spiral out of control. First, Alec finally shares the knowledge about their parents having been members of the circle with his siblings. Unsurprisingly, they react shocked and doubtful, questioning the truth of his statement as well as his harsh judgement of Robert and Maryse’s behavior. Alec can feel himself getting angrier by the second, the pain in his arm for once not clearing his mind, but adding to the stress of his situation. Part of him just wants to lash out against everyone. Against Izzy, for meddling and pushing and making him feel guilty; against Jace, for not being there for him and putting Clary first instead; against his parents, for tarnishing the Lightwood name in the first place and pressuring him for most of his life; against Clary, for making his whole world fall apart in the span of two weeks; against Simon, for having let himself be turned into a vampire; against Meliorn, for dragging his sister into the conflict between the Clave and Valentine; against Lydia, for agreeing to marry him just because he came up with this stupid idea of saving his family; and against Magnus, for making him feel… _something_.

Alec keeps a tight rein on his anger, though, and doesn’t let his siblings see any of the pain he is experiencing. When Lydia turns up and drops the bombshell of their engagement on Izzy and Jace, a part of Alec at least appreciates the shocked reactions from his siblings. It is not often that he can surprise them with a decision like that, always being the predictable and obedient one, but not anymore. Nevertheless, the sense of satisfaction feels hollow, somehow, when Izzy stomps off, hurt and angry, and Jace also leaves, looking extremely disgruntled. Alec wants to yell after them that he’s also doing this for them, but he doesn’t.

“Well, that didn’t go over as smoothly as I thought,” Lydia says, looking up at him.

He snorts, humorlessly, and shrugs. “I didn’t think they would be thrilled about this.”

“Why? They should be happy for you, shouldn’t they?”

Alec looks down at her and shakes his head lightly. “My family… They just don’t like the idea of us getting married because we think it’s a smart choice.”

Lydia looks pensive for a moment. “I see. They would prefer you marry for love then?” He nods. “I thought so, too, once. But after John… Well, let’s just say I learned it the hard way that emotions only get in the way of important decisions. And I will never let that happen again.” Alec keeps silent, still staring in the direction Izzy and Jace rushed off.

Lydia puts a hand on his arm, drawing his attention. “Alec… I didn’t mean that I don’t care for you, by the way…”

He looks at her, surprised, and then quickly moves to reassure her. Apparently she’s taken his silence to mean that he’s worried about what they feel or not feel for each other. “No, I know. Don’t worry. It’s not… I mean, I get it. We’ve only just met. I guess, I… I could… I mean I’ll probably…” He huffs, breaking off. Why is it always so hard to talk about his feelings? “What I’m trying to say is that I like you and we respect each other. We have the same goals, the same aspirations. I think that’s enough for a functioning partnership.”

Lydia smiles at him, a warm expression in her blue eyes. “I agree. We have a solid base to grow our relationship on, and sometimes the greater good is more important than personal feelings. We have a duty to our kind, after all.”

A part of Alec wants to shake his head and tell her that no, feelings _are_ important and that duty shouldn’t be a factor of consideration when falling for someone. But he keeps quiet, knowing that that rebellious side of him can’t ever have the upper hand. Like Lydia said, he needs to focus on the greater good. Restoring his family name and reputation, as well as leading the Institute again without the Clave’s interference is more important than what a part of Alec _wants_.

“And who’s to say we won’t eventually grow to love each other,” Lydia says, interrupting his line of thought. Alec’s face grows hot and he avoids looking into her eyes. He knows Lydia thinks, perhaps even hopes, that this will happen someday, but despite everything, he is sure that he will never truly return any romantic feelings she might develop over time. He can’t love her in that way, as much as he might wish he could. He’s never felt any sort of attraction towards a woman before, even back when he was still young enough to be ignorant about other… _inclinations_ he might have. He might love and respect her like a sister, eventually, but beyond that, his heart will remain closed. So he stays silent, until she pats his shoulder once again and leaves him to his training.

 

///

 

Alec has never seen his father look at him with so much hurt in his eyes. He is not used to speaking his mind around his parents like that, but now that the Clave has ordered their return to Idris, he lets his father have a piece of it. It feels good to let part of his anger go, but doesn’t really give him the satisfaction he craves. Izzy had been right when she said that bottling up his anger and emotions like that wasn’t healthy.

After Meliorn reveals to Lydia that Clary is in possession of the Mortal Cup, Alec is at least glad that Jace accepts his request of handing it over to the Clave. He and his _parabatai_ have not been on the best of terms ever since the redhead showed up on their doorstep, but he grants his brother’s wish of letting Clary be the one to hand it over.

When he leaves her room, Lydia calls him over. “I just received orders from the Clave,” she says, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “We need to hand over Meliorn to the Silent Brothers.”

Alec crosses his arms, frowning. “You mean take him to the City of Bones?” Lydia nods. “Downworlders don’t fare well there, you know that, right?”

“I know. But we have our orders. They want to question him further, see if he knows anything he’s been keeping to himself so far.”

Alec hesitates. He has no love for the seelie knight, but the punishment doesn’t seem to befit his crime, one he hasn’t technically committed. “We don’t even have proof that the seelies are actually in league with Valentine.”

Lydia purses her lips, doubt clearly visible in her expression. “I know,” she says again. “But we have to do what we’re told. And besides, maybe there is more he isn’t telling us. You know how seelies are.”

Alec does, but although he accepts the fact that the Law is hard, he has a hard time following it right at that moment. Unfortunately, Lydia is right, and they don’t have a choice. Which is exactly what he tells Isabelle and Jace, after they try to interfere with their orders.

His sibling give up fighting him quicker than he thought, so Alec makes his way to his parents’ office. His father left some supplies for the Forsaken wound on his desk and after his brutal attack on the punching bag, the bandage is definitely in need of changing.

Unbuttoning his shirt, Alec gingerly removes one sleeve and takes a closer look at his mangled arm. The _iratze_ Robert drew on his back earlier still hasn’t vanished completely, causing a steady burn down his shoulder. He could probably apply a second one, but leaves it be when he takes off the bandage. The wound is still the same size as earlier, bleeding heavier than he thought. Alec hisses through his teeth at the pain shooting through his arm at each movement and he is glad no one is there to see him. He takes a fresh bandage from the desk and applies it to the bleeding gash.

Finishing up, Alec buttons up his shirt again and grabs his jacket. For the fraction of a second, he thinks he sees a weird flash around his stele, but it’s gone before his eyes can really comprehend what he is seeing. When he leaves the office to head for the ops center, he is surprised to find Magnus outside, turned towards the wall. It seems he’s been enforcing additional wards, though Alec is confused about why he would need one inside the Institute’s rooms instead of its outside walls and windows.

“All done for today,” the warlock chuckles, knocking his fingers against the wooden paneling. “Place is secure. Not bad for a day’s work.”

Alec is somewhat surprised to see Magnus still at the Institute, but then again, he never did send Lydia his way to deal with his payment. He vows to do it right after he returns from the Silent Brothers.

Magnus falls in step next to him, gesturing at his arm. “I thought I’d see how you were doing.”

Part of Alec is touched at his concern, but he tries to ignore the warm feeling spreading through his body at the thought. Magnus’ smile is soft, but it reminds him that there is still something Alec needs to tell the other man.

“I meant to thank you for your advice.” Magnus raises his eyebrows, a questioning look on his face. “The whole… ‘follow your heart’ thing,” Alec elaborates, trailing off quietly.

“Oh, well, what can I say?” Magnus says, chuckling. “I have a deep understanding of the human psyche. At least, that’s what Freud always said.”

Alec is thrown for a second, unsure how to reply to that. His mind starts to drift off, wondering when, how and where Magnus might have met the Austrian neurologist, before he stops himself ruthlessly. It doesn’t do him any good thinking about the warlock with that much interest anymore. After all… “I’m getting married.” The words tumble out of his mouth before Alec is completely aware of it. He was still working up the courage to tell Magnus, but it seems his mind overruled his heart once more and beat him to it.

“Woah,” the other man says, taken aback. “That’s a tad sudden, isn’t it?” Alec stares at him, confused about his reaction. Yes, it’s sudden, but Shadowhunters usually get married pretty quickly. There’s no long courtship like in the mundane world, and they certainly don’t have the same kind of time the immortal warlocks do.

He almost misses Magnus going on. “I mean, we should at least go to dinner first- “

Realizing his mistake, Alec quickly cuts in: “No, Magnus… family is everything to me. You have to know that.” He wills the warlock to finally understand what he is trying to tell him., while his heart starts beating faster and faster, his hands getting cold and clammy.

“I get it,” Magnus replies. “You’re part of a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ culture. I’m fine with it. You’re a traditional guy.”

“Yeah, I am,” Alec says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Magnus is looking at him with an almost hopeful expression, and it hurts, much more than he thought it would, to say: “That’s why I proposed to Lydia.”

They stare at each other, Alec’s heart galloping away in his chest, his breath coming out in quick puffs. Magnus seems frozen for a moment, the shocked hurt in his dark eyes betraying his calm outward demeanor.

Alec can practically see the walls coming up, when Magnus says: “That’s... interesting.” He drops his gaze, shifting slightly away from Alec.

“I-it makes sense,” Alec stutters, desperate to make the warlock understand his decision. He doesn’t want to hurt Magnus, but surely the other has to realize that whatever there is between them can never become anything real, more. Alec is a Shadowhunter, bound to his family and his people by duty and honor. Blowing all that in the wind for a warlock, a _man_ …  it would ruin whatever reputation he has left. Tradition, as Magnus said, also plays into it. Who is Alec to question practices that have been implemented into Shadowhunter society for generations? Who is Alec to just follow his heart and take what, _who_ , he actually wants, when thousands of people before him have made the same or even greater sacrifices than the one he is making?

Magnus is still avoiding his gaze, looking more serious than Alec has ever seen him before. “It’s a solid partnership. For both of us,” he finishes lamely, willing the other to agree.

The warlock’s dark eyes bore into Alec’s hazel ones and he suddenly smiles, without any mirth. “Solid partnership,” he repeats mockingly, laughing once. Alec frowns, his heart thumping painfully against his ribs. “That’s _hot_!”

Now it’s Alec’s turn to drop his gaze, suddenly feeling ashamed. He doesn’t want to, he wants to tell Magnus that he’s thought about this long and hard, that it is a good idea to marry. But the words won’t come out, stuck somewhere in his throat. Part of him knows that it would be a lie anyway.

His treacherous heart aches at Magnus’ defeated expression and he wants nothing more than to push against the warlock, burry his hands in his hair and kiss him until they’re both gasping for breath. But he doesn’t, rather chastising himself for thinking something outrageous like that in the first place.

“Well, okay then,” Magnus says eventually, a pained smile plastered on his face. “Congratulations. Marriage is a _wonderful_ institution. Not that I would know.” He adds the last bit quietly, almost like an afterthought. Inhaling sharply, he says: “Goodbye, Alexander.”

It hurts more than anything, hearing his name fall from Magnus’ lips in that way. Alec’s heart clenches painfully, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. Why does it have to be like this? Why is it so hard to let Magnus go? Not for the first time in his life, Alec wishes he could shut off all emotions and just not feel anything. He wasn’t lying when he told Clary a few days ago that emotions cloud one’s judgment and that Shadowhunters are taught to control them. But Alec knows better than anyone that most of the time, he only manages to control them because he has been building a wall around his heart since he was six years old. Keeping everything tightly locked away, he simply doesn’t let himself feel what he feels, rather responding with sarcasm, eye rolling or ignorance. Alec knows this behavior is only fueling all the anger he is suppressing, but despite Izzy’s soft encouragement or even Jace’s presence, he has never let himself truly feel the full spectrum of human emotions.

When he turns around, Magnus is long gone, making Alec feel more alone than he ever has before. Shaking his head once to clear his mind, he goes off to collect Meliorn for his transport to the City of Bones.

 

///

 

After his discussion with Lydia, Alec and a security detail of Shadowhunters make their way to the hidden Downworlder entrance to see the Silent Brothers. Although Lydia’s story about her fiancé has strengthened his conviction of ruling with his head and not his heart, Alec can’t help but think about if subjecting Meliorn to the Bone City really is the right decision. He gets that nothing is more important than to find and capture Valentine, but he can’t escape the memory of Izzy’s tearful, angry face. He knows she cares for him deeply, and he doesn’t want to hurt her. He just has to pray that the seelie knight will get out relatively unscathed and that his sister will forgive him eventually.

Alec leads the group through the night, nearing the warehouse hiding the secret entrance. As soon as they turn the corner, he senses something is wrong. Seconds later, he hears a growl and, looking up, spots the werewolf above him. The group splits up, Alec taking Meliorn inside while he orders the others to secure the perimeter.

In the end, he is not really surprised to hear Clary’s voice call out after him. Despite knowing better, he stops and turns around to look at her. He can see in her face that she knows she can’t take him in a fight and that he won’t back down from one if he has to.

However, when he moves towards the entrance, a cold shiver runs down his back at the sight of his _parabatai_ blocking his way. Briefly directing his mind inwards, Alec knows he should have realized his brother was close by. Their shared rune pulses hotly at his side, their bond connecting them like a bright piece of taut wire.

“You told me you were taking Clary back to the Institute,” Alec says accusingly, his hand tightening on Meliorn’s arm. “You lied to me!”

“I did what needed to be done,” Jace replies, jutting his chin out.

“Alec, the Clave has gone too far,” Clary butts in, putting herself between himself and his brother. “You have to see that. Please, just let Meliorn go.”

Alec is so tired of Clary’s entitlement and that she always seems to think she knows better. Clenching his jaw, he growls at her: “I have my orders.”

“You and your damn orders. Who cares about orders?”

“See? That’s how little you know about being a Shadowhunter. You couldn’t possibly understand- “

“It’s you that doesn’t understand, Alec,” Jace cuts in. “Not this time.”

Alec stares at his brother, feeling betrayed. After everything they’ve been through, Jace actively chooses Clary over his own _parabatai_. He also thinks he knows better, but he doesn’t. Alec is tired of having to explain himself to everyone, having his judgment questioned and being treated like an idiot, like a child. Not anymore. He moves past Clary, dragging Meliorn towards the City’s entrance, but he doesn’t get very far.

He is almost unprepared when Jace suddenly tackles him to the ground. While Alec’s back hits the floor, Jace yells at Clary and Meliorn to run. He grunts angrily, trying to push his brother off of him, but Jace grabs his right arm and presses his whole weight against it.

Alec stares up at him, his heartrate elevated. “You always broke the rules, but never the law. Not until _she_ showed up!”

“You’ve had it out for Clary from the start,” Jace shoots back. “And now you’re getting married, Alec? We both know what this is about!”

“Oh, do we? Okay. Why doesn’t the legend, Jace Wayland, tell us what it’s about?” he pants, trying to move his arm back.

“It’s about _me_!” Jace yells, face inches from Alec’s. A cold dread settles into his stomach and Alec feels like he’s been doused in ice water. His heart beats wildly in his chest and he stares at his brother, completely forgetting to struggle against him. “It’s about your feelings,” Jace continues. “It’s because you’re- “

But Alec has heard enough. Before his _parabatai_ can finish what Alec never wants him to say, what he never wanted him to _know_ , he yanks his arm from Jace’s slackened grip and throws him a few feet away. They are both up on their feet quickly, when Alec aims the first blow at Jace.

While they fight, his mind is only focused on defending and attacking. He knows how Jace moves intimately, they have been training together since they were kids after all. But despite many sparring lessons and the occasional scuffle, he has never actually fought his brother with the intent of hurting him. And he still doesn’t really want to. But none of them is throwing his punches, both grunting and trying to overpower the other.

Jace may be quicker, but Alec is taller and stronger. He uses that to his advantage and has their positions reversed after a few minutes. His Seraph dagger is out and at Jace’s throat before he can really think about it. He kneels above him, both panting heavily, with the weapon inches away from the other one’s skin, his hand shaking from the strain. Alec’s mind is blank, fury, resentment and sorrow raging war in his heart.

“Do it!” Jace’s shout cuts through the haze around his head. “DO IT! I don’t want to be alive if we’re on different sides, Alec.” His brother’s voice sounds pained, his breath coming out in loud gasps.

Alec suddenly realizes that he is threatening Jace, his _parabatai_ , with a Seraph blade to his throat. All the fight leaves his body at once, making him drop to the floor next to him. The thought of wanting to hurt his brother, almost _killing_ him, makes him feel sick. There’s bile in his mouth and a cold sweat across his brow that has nothing to do with the physical exertion he just had. Alec wants nothing more than to throw up, but he instead pulls his legs closer to his chest, staring into space.

Jace, still panting, gets up from the floor and looks down at him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “We’ll fight Valentine the right way. Together.”

Eyes focused somewhere around Jace’s knees, Alec croaks out: “If we do that, we’ll be considered traitors like Mom and Dad.” He doesn’t want to be like his parents. He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes, doesn’t want to sacrifice everything he believes in for the uncertainty of acting against the law. It’s just not the way Alec was raised, how he _is_.

But Jace doesn’t get that, holding his ideals and his love for Clary above everything else. “I’m begging you, my _parabatai_ , my brother. Please, Alec, come with me.”

He looks up at Jace at that. Alec can see the hope and desperation in his eyes and knows that if he takes his hand now, everything will be forgotten. Things will go back to normal, Alec will close himself off once again and let Jace talk all over him. He will follow him into danger, like he’s always done, and never really question his decisions. He will continue to live in Jace’s shadow, the dutiful sidekick to the great Jace Wayland. He loves his brother, but he can’t keep living like this. He can’t.

“No.”

The small word sounds loud in the empty warehouse. Something breaks in Alec at the look on Jace’s face, but it’s too late to turn back now. He has made his decision, just as his brother has made his. Jace looks like he’s about to cry, his lips trembling and his brows drawn together into a pained grimace. Shaking his head once, he sighs and leaves Alec sitting alone on the cold hard ground of the warehouse.

Alec closes his eyes and inhales sharply, the pain in his wounded arm suddenly catching up to him. But it seems almost like an afterthought compared to the pain he feels in his heart. His breathing accelerates and he puts his head on his knees, trying to calm down. Mind spinning and heart beating out of control, he feels another bout of bile rise up and this time, he can’t stop himself. Turning over on hands and knees, Alec throws up. His esophagus contracts painfully, while it forces up the contents of his stomach. But because he hasn’t had any full meal in long time, all that comes up is acidic bile and spit. Breath rattling in his throat, Alec groans, arms and legs trembling uncontrollably.

Eventually, the heaving subsides and he sits back on his haunches. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he runs a shaking hand across his forehead. It comes back wet with cold sweat. There’s a disgusting taste in his mouth and he longs for some water to rinse it out. With a heavy heart, he gets to his feet, legs quivering from exhaustion. He moves towards the exit on autopilot, barely registering the sun peaking bright and early over the nearby rooves.

He finds all of his fellow Shadowhunters alive and mostly unharmed, strewn across the industrial park. Raj has a nasty bump on the head, some others have bruises and scratches, but no one is seriously injured.

“We lost Meliorn,” he answers one of the Shadowhunter’s question, but doesn’t elaborate on how or who was involved. Even now, after everything, he is not going to betray Jace the same way he has betrayed him. No one, or at least no one of his inferiors, needs to know about Clary and his brother. Alec can imagine that they had help from Luke and his pack and maybe even a few vampires, which would explain how they got overpowered in the first place.

Silently, the group makes their way back to the Institute. Alec stares straight ahead and wonders what to tell Lydia, while Raj and a few others talk about the attack on them.

“It was clearly a group of Downworlders trying to free the seelie,” someone behind Alec says.

“Vampire and werewolves working together to free one of the Fair Folk? I don’t think so.”

“Then how do explain the wolves we saw?”

Alec hears someone snort. “Maybe the wolves were involved. But how did they even know about our mission?”

“Well,” another voice cuts in. “I don’t know about you guys, but I was definitely attacked by someone who moved a lot like one of us.” Alec’s ears prick up and he casts a quick glance back over his shoulder. It’s Raj, deep in conversation with three other Shadowhunters.

They all seem doubtful at the dark-haired man’s suggestion, but Alec can’t help but wonder if he isn’t right. If Clary and Jace were with him, then it doesn’t seem unlikely that Izzy was also involved. This whole thing was about Meliorn in the first place, and Alec knows how much his sister cares for the seelie. Praying that she stayed out of it, he hurries his steps, barking at the others to pick up their pace.

Back at the Institute, Lydia isn’t happy at the turn of events, but she doesn’t question Alec’s halfhearted explanation. Later, he realizes, it’s only when Izzy turns up and Alec stops her to talk to him, that she gets really suspicious.

 

///

 

Magnus gets back to his loft in the early hours of the morning. He is exhausted, both physically as well as mentally. Enforcing the wards around the Institute is technically not that difficult, but seeing Alec’s injury may have brought him to overreact a tad.

Thinking of the young Shadowhunter, Magnus moves towards his service tray and pours himself a nice, strong Bourbon. He’s too tired to conjure up a fancy cocktail, longing instead for the soothing burn of the whiskey. Dropping down on his leather couch, drink in hand, he leans his head back and closes his eyes. Taking another sip, all he wants is to go to bed, sleep for a week and forget this dreadful day even existed.

_That’s why I proposed to Lydia._

Alec’s voice cuts through his mind, derailing his thoughts of alcohol and soft sheets, making him jerk up again. Magnus has a hard time forgetting how Alec looked after he told him about his impending nuptials. It isn’t the first time someone Magnus fancies has been too afraid to come out of the closet, not even the first time someone has gone off to marry someone else instead, but despite his hundreds of years, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this shocked. Before Alec stepped into his life, he had closed himself off for a long time, not letting anyone close, because he just couldn’t bear to lose them again. Like most warlocks, he’s experienced more than his fair share of loss over the years, so getting attached to mortals really isn’t wise. But at his heart, Magnus is a romantic, longing for that feeling only true love can give someone.

He knows that he is falling for Alec, even though he doesn’t quite know how it happened. The young Shadowhunter hasn’t been all that open with him, moving closer the one moment only to push him away again immediately the next one. He gets that Alec is scared, scared of his feelings, scared of what his family and friends will think, scared of the reactions from other Shadowhunters and the Clave. During his dealings with the demon slaying kind, Magnus has come to understand the prejudices and deep-rooted backward thinking a lot of them have, especially the older generations. Part of him pities Alec for having been brought up in a world like that, where being himself is painted wrong, the mere existence of gay Shadowhunters hushed up and declared non-existent. He longs to take the boy away from everything and teach him what it means to really love someone, no matter their gender or sexuality.

When Alec thanked him for his advice, Magnus had thought that he had gotten through that pretty dark head of his, only to then be doused in bout of freezing water instead. He wanted nothing more than to take Alec by his shoulders, shake him and then push him up against the wall to kiss some sense into him.

Imagining the Shadowhunter’s full lips and expressive hazel eyes, Magnus loses himself in a swirl of emotions and desire. He longs to touch Alec, run his fingers through the dark mop of hair, kiss his way down the large, dark rune on the side of his neck. When Magnus touches the tips of his fingers to his lips, he can almost feel the heat of Alec’s lips on his.

But then the look of Alec after he had said goodbye rushes to the forefront of his mind, rudely distracting him from those nice thoughts. He had looked so defeated, shoulders hunched, head hanging down. Magnus had hesitated for a moment, looking back at him, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around the young Shadowhunter and hold him close. But his own pain had won out against consoling the other man’s, chasing him to leave the Institute without even collecting his due fees. As much as he would like it to be, it’s not his place to give Alec the courage to come out. It’s not his responsibility to make him realize that he is gay and that being gay is nothing to be afraid of or ashamed for.

Gulping down the rest of his drink, Magnus gets to his feet and moves towards his bedroom. A snap of his fingers wipes the makeup from his face and the glitter out of his hair, leaving him looking soft and vulnerable. Without changing into pajamas, he throws himself onto his bed, burying his head under the soft, satin-clad pillows. Magnus has barely closed his eyes, Alec’s raw and pained expression still present in his mind, before he drifts off into a dreamless, yet unrestful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, _parabatais_ fighting is pretty exhausting. *tries to shake some sense into Jace and Alec* What a bunch of idiots… 
> 
> I borrowed a lot from the episode, because I felt it necessary to explain Alec’s thought process. Also, I have another perspective change to Magnus at the end there. domoiswatchingyou suggested it, and I really liked the idea, so there you have it. I hope it’s kind of what you had in mind, I’m still struggling with Magnus’ perspective. 
> 
> The next one will be interesting, because I’m still not sure how to include the inverted universe. It will hopefully be up by the end of the week.
> 
> Come find me at light-in-the-wood.tumblr.com xxx


	7. This World Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t wait to put up this chapter and the muse hit me, so here you have it. Let me know what you think of it. 
> 
> Now, there is one very specific change I made to an actual scene from the episode that has been bugging me ever since it aired. I’m sure you’ll know it when you read it. I just hate that one line from the show, and although these characters are obviously not mine, I decided to change that moment in my story. So there.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos. I love reading your encouraging words! :)

Izzy is not being helpful, storming off to her room and leaving Alec standing alone in the ops center. Looking over, he sees Lydia eyeing him up, her eyebrows drawn together. She looks suspicious, so he tries the best reassuring smile he can muster. Her expression doesn’t really change, so he heads off towards the living quarters. His mind is still spinning, trying to determine how much Raj and the others might have seen and if Lydia will realize what has happened. Part of him wants to tell her about Jace and Clary, but a stronger part still refuses to give up on his brother. And besides, it would also incriminate Izzy, and he can’t risk that.

Almost at his room, Alec makes a beeline for his sister’s instead and softly knocks on her door. They all have been up for over 24 hours, so he doesn’t want to wake her if she’s gone to bed to catch a few precious hours of sleep.

“What?” Izzy’s muffled voice comes from the other side.

“It’s me,” Alec answers, waiting for her to open the door. But she doesn’t. Instead, something heavy crashes against it, making him take a careful step backwards. This wouldn’t be the first time his sister knocked him over the head with her shoes, a book or even an actual frying pan. No one tells Isabelle Lightwood that her pancakes taste like dust and gets away with it unscathed. Alec had to learn that the hard way.

“Iz, come on. Open up,” he tries again, but she just hurls another heavy object against the door.

“Piss off, Alec! I’m not talking to you!”

He sighs, leaning a shoulder against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment. His sister can be one stubborn woman, but Alec really needs to talk to her. An idea pops into his head, so he says loudly: “Fine, I’ll go.” At the same time, he walks away a few feet only to slink back quietly. He waits, and sure enough, the door cracks open, Izzy’s brown eyes peeking through the gap.

Arms crossed in front of his chest, he raises an eyebrow at her when she tries to slam the door closed again. His foot stops her, painfully getting squashed against the frame. Alec flinches slightly, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing a big reaction to her tantrum.

“Please, just let me come in,” he says, eyes serious.

Isabelle stares at him for a moment, then huffs annoyed and throws the door open. “Fine! I don’t care! You do what you want anyway!” She marches back into her room and flings herself on the bed, back to Alec. 

He hesitates, but slips inside eventually, closing the door behind him. His sister is paying him no attention, her long dark hair a contrasting mess on the light sheets of her bed. If it weren’t for the quick rise and fall of her back, he would think she is sleeping.

Carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed, as far away from her bare feet as possible lest she kick him, he looks at her, trying to come up with the right words.

“Listen...” he begins. “I’m sorry.” That seems a good start. But before he can clarify, even for himself, what he is actually sorry for, Izzy is on him. She jerks up, turning around to face him, her brown eyes wild and makeup slightly smudged around the eyes and mouth.

“Oh, are you? What for, huh? Sorry for agreeing to go along with Mom and Dad’s stupid plan? Sorry for proposing to Lydia? Sorry for almost getting Meliorn killed?”

“Now, I-“ he tries to cut in, but Izzy is on a roll and talks right over him.

“Sorry for not listening to me? Sorry for denying who you really are and what you really feel? Sorry- “

“Isabelle!” Alec shouts angrily, interrupting her increasingly loud tirade. His face feels as hot as her cheeks look red. They stare at each other, both somewhat shocked into momentary silence. He’s taken aback by her sudden outburst and also by the fact that the whole Meliorn thing seems to be only one of several issues bugging his sister.

No one seems to want to make the first step, so Alec gets up from the bed and runs a nervous hand over the back of his neck. “Look, I’m not sorry for proposing to Lydia, okay? I know you don’t want me to marry her, but it’s a smart decision.” Izzy scoffs, putting her hands on her shoulders and laying her chin on her crossed arms, avoiding his gaze. “It _is_. Lydia and I will restore our family name and run the Institute together. I’m doing this for all of us.”

At that, his sister’s head jerks back up and she stares at him. “That’s ridiculous. And the thing is, you _know_ it is! Marrying Lydia isn’t going to solve any of our problems, and it’s certainly not going to make you happy.”

“This is not about being happy, Isabelle, don’t you get it?” Alec exclaims, annoyance creeping up again, making him feel edgy and irritated. Why does no one but Lydia seem to get that this is strictly business? That they’re going to marry to make the name Lightwood mean something again and to have the honor restored to the New York Institute?

“If you give me this bullshit about sacrificing yourself to correct our parents’ mistakes and doing this for our family honor, I’m going to punch you in the nose, Alexander Gideon Lightwood!” Izzy says, throwing her hands up exasperatedly.

He frowns at her, jaw clenched. “I’m not sacrificing myself. This is for our mutual benefit, and if it makes Mom and Dad happy and gets the Clave off our backs as well, then that’s an added bonus.” She has to see that his decision is only logical.

“Well isn’t that quaint! And what about your feelings? What about love? When will you get it into that thick head of yours that those things matter, too, Alec?”

“Not for a Shadowhunter.”

Izzy stares at him, a betrayed look in her pale face. “So it doesn’t matter that you love me and Max and Jace and even Mom and Dad? That we all love you?” she asks after a moment, her voice sounding small.

Alec turns away, feeling his heart clench painfully in his chest. “Not when it comes to this. I’m also doing this _because_ I love you. Why can’t you see that?” He looks back at her, his expression pleading. Something softens in her face at his words, but she still shakes her head.

“Alec… You don’t _have_ to do this. In fact, _don’t_ do it. Please.” Izzy’s voice is quiet, unshed tears brimming in her big dark eyes.

His heart clenches again as he sits back down next to her, taking her hand in both of his. “It’s the best thing to do.”

She laces her fingers through his and they both look down at their joint hands for a moment. “What about Magnus?” Izzy asks quietly and Alec squeezes his eyes closed, as if that could stop him from seeing the handsome warlock in his mind immediately.

“Don’t,” he whispers, head bowed down and shoulders hunched. At moments like this, when his sister finds his weak spot with scary accuracy, he feels so open and vulnerable and just wants to vanish into thin air. But Izzy never applies real pressure. Even now, when he just wants to curl up and ignore the world, ignore her words, she scoots closer and puts her other hand on the side of his neck.

“There’s a reason your most prominent rune is deflection, Alec,” she says quietly, stroking her thumb over the dark mark. “We’ve had this discussion before, and you know what I think about it all. You think by pushing everyone and every emotion away, you can protect yourself. Protect others as well. But I don’t want you to ignore your feelings, for Magnus or any other… _person_. Loving someone doesn’t make you weak, big brother. And running away, getting married, isn’t going to help, either. You are who you are and I love you, no matter what.”

It’s the same old pattern, Alec thinks, of him doing something that upsets his sister, but in the end, she’s the one reassuring him. For once, he wants to come through for her and make her proud.

“I’m not sorry for following orders,” he says eventually. Izzy tenses, her hand slipping from his neck. “ _But_ … I’m sorry for endangering Meliorn. It wasn’t the right call.” He can’t bring himself to say that it was the right decision to free the seelie knight in the way they did, but he knows Izzy can read between the lines. Alec suspects that they still haven’t made up completely, that there are still things left unsaid and in need of discussion, but for now, this is all he is willing to concede.

As always, Isabelle knows when to simply leave him be, her earlier outburst almost forgotten. His sister is never scared to speak her mind, in front of him or anyone else, but despite what their mother thinks, she is a good judge of character and has a great understanding of when to say or not say something.

“Well, I’ll take it. Meliorn is safe, and that’s all that matters now,” Izzy says, hopping down from her bed and moving towards her vanity table. She rubs at the smudged makeup under her eyes and reapplies another layer of bright red lipstick.

“This isn’t over. Lydia is not someone who gives up easily, and I think Raj may have seen something,” Alec states, watching her walk over to her closet. She rummages around for a moment, pulling an especially high looking pair of heels out and putting them on.

“I’ll deal with that if it comes to it,” she replies, turning back to face him. “Besides, Raj is a bit of an idiot. Chances are he doesn’t realize what he’s seen.”

Alec prays to the Angel that she’s right. Now that Clary and Jace are on the run with no way of finding them, and his parents back in Idris, Izzy is the only link in a chain of misconduct the Clave can focus on.

 

///

 

They barely have time to get some food from the kitchen and head back to the ops center, before all hell breaks loose again. Alec has to stand by while Lydia orders Raj to arrest Izzy, taking her away to their parents’ office. It’s exactly as he feared. With the others gone, Izzy is the only suspect and as the Clave’s envoy, Lydia has to follow the law to the letter. Technically, he can’t fault her for arresting his sister – she’s guilty of what Lydia thinks she did after all-, but he can’t risk her actually getting punished for it. Especially with the danger of Isabelle being stripped off her runes and send into exile looming over their heads, he paces his room feverishly, trying to come up with a solution. Alec once again curses Clary for putting them all in this position in the first place.

Suddenly, a thought strikes him like a freight train, making him stop abruptly in the middle of his room. The Clave is going to use Izzy as an example, just like Lydia suggested, to keep chaos and intrigue amongst the Shadowhunters at bay in view of Valentine’s return. His parents’ callback to Idris and their envoy in Lydia had been other steps in ensuring compliance from the Institute and its inhabitants. But there is something the Clave wants more than to drag the Lightwoods’ name through the mud, something they’ve been after all these years: the Mortal Cup. If he can convince Lydia to hear him out, if he comes clean about what Clary, Jace and Izzy have been up to, then maybe she can intervene to get his sister off the hook. Alec stares into space, thinking about his promise to his brother of keeping the Cup out of the Clave’s hands. But this is more important now. After everything Jace did, it’s no real hardship for Alec to choose his sister’s safety and freedom over an empty promise made to his _parabatai_. Without wasting another moment to think about it, he races off to find Lydia.

She’s in the training room and not exactly happy to see him. But as soon as he relays the information she has, she readily agrees to his terms. However, Alec’s hopes are quickly dashed when he realizes that both the tarot card as well as Clary’s portal-shard necklace are missing. There is only one person who could have gotten access to his private safe, although Alec isn’t sure how Jace managed it. The rune locking the storage place only reacts to his own stele and as far as he’s aware, it hasn’t been out of his pocket or unobserved for days.

He moves into an empty corridor and leans his forehead against the cold stone wall. Alec just wants to scream in frustration, but he only pushes his fist against the wound on his arm to calm his mind. His father’s healing rune has finally begun to work properly, the gash having shrunk significantly. It only twinges lightly, not giving him the same amount of pain it did the day before.

Alec grinds his teeth together, feeling disheartened. There has to be a way to get the Cup back and give it to the Clave. He runs a desperate hand through his hair, mind racing. He has no idea where Jace and Clary are or how to find them. They both have blocking runes, so locating them is nearly impossible. A part of him wants to consider asking a warlock for help, just so he can see Magnus’ face again, but he pushes the thought aside quickly. Although Lilith’s children have different means of tracking someone’s position, even their abilities are limited when it comes to working around rune magic. Besides, he doesn’t think it would be a good idea to involve another Downworlder in this whole mess now.

Alec takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He turns his attention inwards, searching for that connection inside him that bonds him to Jace. He can feel the presence of his _parabatai_ like a distant memory, brushing somewhere along the edges of his mind, but he can’t quite grasp the other end of their bond. There seems to be some sort of barrier between them that doesn’t let Alec get a clear reading of Jace’s location or emotions. Normally, their bond is strong enough that it’s always at the back of their minds, letting them know how the other is feeling, like the familiar warmth of a sixth sense. Neither is constantly actively aware of how the other is doing, but it gives both _parabatais_ the reassurance that each one is safe. Alec has never tried to find his brother like this, what with Jace usually being close by, standing and fighting at his side. Now though, they are truly apart for the first time since their bonding, and Alec can think of only one way to find him.

Opening his eyes, he knows that what he’s planning is risky. The bond between _parabatais_ is an angelic one, stronger than any other in the Shadow World. Their life forces are connected, interwoven so tightly that it is nearly impossible to separate them. Only brute force can drive them apart or press them close enough, for just a moment, so Alec can locate Jace.

Only wanting to use this method as a last resort, Alec makes his way to his parents’ office. Raj is manning the door, grudgingly opening it for him when he approaches. All hopes that Izzy might have a different idea how to find their brother are quickly dashed. On top of that, Alec’s anger rises once more when he realizes that she helped Jace steal the Cup in the first place. It seems like everything Alec touches lately is falling to pieces, running through his fingers like sand. He wants to punch a hole in the wall in rage, storming from the office before he can yell at Izzy for being so stupid.

In the end, he knows that the only way to save his sister is to risk breaking his bond with his brother. The dilemma of choosing between his siblings, the people he loves most in the world despite everything, is not lost on Alec. As much as he just wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole so he doesn’t have to make this decision, he knows there is no way around it. Izzy or Jace? Jace or Izzy?

Alec wishes the choice were easy, but even though he tells himself that Jace doesn’t deserve his loyalty, it is hard to shake off years of trust, partnership and love. And he still loves him, so much. Only that love is somewhat tainted with regret, anger and the desperation about their rift. However, he can’t let Izzy suffer for any mistakes he or Jace made.

Pressing his clenched fists against his temples, Alec takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He can’t let his emotions keep raging war inside him; there’s simply no time. Making up his mind, Alec hurries to find Hodge, knowing the tutor is the only one able to safely guide him through locating Jace through their shared rune.

Hodge is in his private training chamber, like most of the time. He is practicing a complicated looking sequence of movements, when Alec barges in. Stopping himself mid-kick, the tutor looks up at him questioningly.

“Alec, what’s wrong?”

“I need you to help me find Jace through our _parabatai_ rune,” Alec says immediately. Hodge straightens from his position, frowning at his charge.

“What? Why?”

Alec quickly relays most of what has transpired in the last few hours, while Hodge’s expression grows darker and darker the more he hears. He crosses his arms in front of his body, shoulders tense and jaw clenched.

“It’s dangerous to put a strain on your bond like that, Alec,” he says as soon as the young Shadowhunter finishes talking.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” Alec replies, face serious and eyes blazing. He can sense that Hodge has more to say, but he tells him to meet him in the infirmary in two minutes to cut him off.

Moving away to look for Lydia, he encounters her just leaving the training room. “I’m going to find Jace and bring the Cup back to the Institute,” Alec tells her without preamble. She stares at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“And how are you going to do that? We have no way of knowing where he and Clary are.”

“Izzy said that Meliorn took them to the seelie realm. I’m going to use our _parabatai_ rune to track Jace there.”

Lydia’s expression is even more shocked than Hodge’s and she grabs his arm. “Alec, are you insane? This is dangerous!”

He shakes her off. “It’s the only way. You can help me or not, but I’m doing this.” Alec makes his way to the infirmary, Lydia close on his heels. Through all this, his heart has been pounding wildly in his chest and his legs feel like someone has filled them with lead.

Climbing the stairs to the medical wing, he starts rolling down the cuffs of his sleeves. “Hodge,” he asks, turning the corner, “you ready?”

“Alec,” Lydia chimes in, rushing after him, “don’t do this out of anger. Jace is still your _parabatai_.”

Hodge comes to stand next to her, looking at Alec with a pained expression. “Lydia’s right.”

“I’m not letting Jace sacrifice my sister for his girlfriend’s pointless crusade,” Alec says angrily. “We’re doing this! And if you don’t want to help, get out.” He knows that he can’t really do this on his own, but fear and desperation make him lash out against the others.

“I’ll help,” Hodge relents. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“You don’t let it go too far. Now, your bond with Jace can withstand a certain amount of strain, but you have to promise me that you won’t let it break.”

Alec starts unbuttoning his shirt, frowning at his tutor. A part of him wants to say that Jace is dead to him, but he doesn’t. Despite everything, it would be a lie. Even though he might be willing to sacrifice their _parabatai_ bond for Izzy, Jace is still a part of him and cutting that out is near to impossible.

“You don’t know how dependent you are on the bond, or how dependent you are on each other,” Lydia cuts in.

“I have to do this,” Alec replies, taking off his shirt. “For Izzy.” He goes to lay down on one of the beds, while the other two move closer to his side.

He takes a deep breath, just as Hodge says: “Prepare yourself. This will be very, _very_ painful.”

“Do it.”

Hodge kneels next to him and gets out his stele. The moment its pointed end touches Alec’s skin above the _parabatai_ rune, it feels like his whole body is on fire. He winces, a pained hiss coming through his clenched teeth. Hodge wasn’t kidding when he said it would be painful. It seems to take ages for him to finish drawing the rune, while Alec can’t quite keep the groans of pain from escaping his mouth. He looks down at his naked chest, riddled with dark marks and scars, to where a red burn is causing this intense agony.

Hodge scoots closer, his voice calming and clear, breaking through the haze around Alec’s head. “Concentrate. Reach out with your mind… with your heart. Use every strand, every fiber of you that is connected to him.”

Alec tries to focus on those words, on the burning feeling of the rune and on his brother. Breathing heavily, he catches glimpses of a flash of blond hair and dark clothes, a Seraph blade being swung this way and that. “It’s working,” he gasps, trying to hold on to the image in his mind. “I can see him.” Jace is in a forest, surrounded by trees. Alec can see the way there like it’s being lit up by thousands of candles, showing him how to get to his _parabatai_.

In the next moment, though, a raging hot pain shoots through his whole body, more powerful than anything Alec has ever experienced. He yells out loud, his body arching off the bed in a desperate attempt to escape the pain. He calls out for his brother, then blacks out.

 

///

 

A hand on his shoulder shakes him and there is a burning sensation on his right side.

“Alec, wake up!”

His eyes shoot open and he jerks up. He barely manages to contain a whimper at the pain in his abdomen. A look down reveals the mark Hodge drew has almost faded, but his _parabatai_ rune is burning hot. On his other side, an _iratze_ is still at work, causing the pain to recede slowly.

Alec looks up and into Hodge’s concerned face. He can see Lydia over his shoulder, also regarding him with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” the tutor asks, helping him sit up properly.

“I will be,” Alec answers, his voice hoarse from screaming in pain. Although he can barely feel the bond in his mind, he knows exactly where Jace is.

“Did it work?” Lydia asks, when he gets to his feet, knees shaking slightly.

“Yes. Let’s go get him,” he answers, grabbing his discarded shirt from the bed and putting it back on.

Lydia nods once and hurries off to change, while Alec goes to collect his bow. Applying the runes for stamina and speed, they race off towards Central Park, which Alec now knows hides the entrance to the seelie realm. It only takes them ten minutes to get there, but as soon as they breach the barrier and see the clearing in front of them, Alec knows they are too late. He yells out Jace’s name, but his brother is nowhere to be found. The portal he saw in his mind is closed as well, and there is no trace of Meliorn either.

“What was that?” Lydia pants, staring at the ivy-covered archway.

“I don’t know,” Alec replies, dread rising in his gut. “But if they’re in there, they’re not coming out.”

“What do you mean?”

Alec turns away, fists clenched at his sides. “I think they went through a portal, and we have no way of knowing where it took them.”

Lydia falls into step with him, frowning pensively. “What are you going to do now?”

Alec is silent for a long time, while they make their way back towards the Institute. “I don’t know,” he says eventually. And he really doesn’t. His only way of saving his sister just vanished to God knows where and his _parabatai_ bond is weaker than it ever has been in his life, even when it had been just newly formed.

They walk back in silence, but when they finally reach the Institute, Lydia halts him with a hand on his arm. “Alec…” she says, biting her lip in worry. “You know I won’t have a choice about going through with the trial now, right?”

He stares at her, feeling his stomach sink even further. It’s not like he didn’t know this was going to happen, but a part of him has still been clinging to the hope that she may just forget the whole thing. Unfortunately though, the proper channels have already been alerted and there’s really no other way for any of them to proceed from here.

Alec simply nods and leaves her standing in the doorway, heading to his parent’s office to talk to Izzy. Telling her he’s failed is the hardest thing he’s had to do. Her soft expression doesn’t really help with the guilt weighing on his mind. They sit on the sofa together, her head on his shoulder, both occupied with their own thoughts.

 

***///***

 

When Alec wakes up, it’s a beautiful morning. He basks in the sun streaming through his window for a while, enjoying the peaceful start of the day. Knowing that the evening will be stressful enough, he takes his time with his morning routine. After a lengthy jog through Central Park, he enjoys a long, hot shower and prepares himself a delicious stack of pancakes for breakfast. He even allows himself a copious amount of syrup. Indulging once in a while can’t hurt, especially not on a day like today.

Alec is nothing if not multitasking, so he uses his free morning to answer a few emails, call back a client to discuss her daughter’s graduation party and then he still has time to respond to several text messages from the caterer for tonight’s event at the Institute. Relishing in the fact that all his hard work and meticulous preparation will have paid off by tomorrow, with hopefully a bunch of new projects launching his party business into the next few months, Alec cheerily leaves his apartment to meet Izzy, Simon and Clary at their favorite coffee place.

Because the weather is so nice, the open-air café is packed. Most seats have been taken, so Alec is glad when he spots an empty table close to the _Java Jace_ truck. He doesn’t have to wait long, until his sister and her boyfriend turn up, both talking animatedly about Simon’s gig tonight.

“Hey man,” Simon greets him, when Alec waves them over to the table he is occupying. They shake hands and he kisses his sister’s cheek warmly. She’s wearing her electric blue glasses and a matching _Star Wars_ shirt. Alec really needs to have a talk with her about her fashion choices. Izzy has the body of a goddess and he will never understand how she can hide that in outfits fresh from a handbook on nerds. But then again, Simon seems to like it, and he’s what everyone would consider as being absolutely freaking cool.

“So, are you ready for tonight?” Alec asks him, while Izzy sits down next to him and gets out her phone. Typical.

“Oh man, I’m so psyched! I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the venue and how the band will do tonight. It’s gonna be epic!” Simon answers excitedly, pushing up his glasses.

“All my hard work will finally come to a spectacular finish,” Alec says, puffing out his chest in confidence.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces when they see Valentine as the Mad Hatter,” Izzy chimes in, barely glancing up from her phone.

“Why is he dressing up as the Mad Hatter again? This is not a costume party, right?” Simon inquires, shooting Alec a questioning look.

“It isn’t, but it _is_ a theme party and he is the boss. Who am I to question the guy who is paying me handsomely for my exclusive services.” He smirks and raises a laugh with the others.

“I want coffee. Anyone for coffee?” Simon asks, turning around to give Jace, the owner of _Java Jace_ , a friendly wave.

Izzy orders a latte and Alec asks for a white chocolate mocha with a hint of cinnamon. He has to get up after all though, when it becomes obvious that Simon can’t carry all three drinks back to their table on his own. Izzy is still completely engrossed in her phone, while Alec takes a sip from his hot drink, sighing in delight. Jace really knows how to make a mean mocha.

Simon also pulls his phone out to text someone, but shrugs apologetically when he sees Alec’s raised eyebrow. “I’m just telling Clary where we are. She’s on her way.”

Their conversation drifts back to the anniversary party of his sister’s company, which Alec has been planning for months, when Simon spots Clary’s fiery red hair across the sea of tables and chairs.

“I’m just gonna go get her, she looks lost,” he says, hurrying towards his childhood friend.

Alec watches him go, before turning his attention back to Izzy, who has her nose stuck in her phone once more. “Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, it is rude to ignore people.”

At the use of her full name, she looks up at him, surprised. “Oh, sorry. You know I tend to do that sometimes.” Her smile his apologetic, but she turns her phone his way to show her a picture of what seems to be Simon’s band at a recent gig.

“Just look at him, Alec! He was so amazing and confident, owning the stage like a pro,” she swoons, pulling out her headphones. “Just listen to this one song. It’s a new one and Simon has written it just for me.”

Alec looks at the song’s title on her phone. _Brown-eyed Angel._ He snorts, amused. His sister is a sweet person, but there’s certainly no angel blood in her veins. Nor is there in his.

When Simon brings Clary over to their table, Alec wonders why she is acting so strange. He is almost mortally wounded when she acts like she doesn’t remember about tonight’s event, even though it is her father’s company’s anniversary. But she quickly recovers and Alec goes back to teasing Izzy about Mr. Morgenstern.

Watching Jace whisk a surprised Clary away to make out behind his coffee truck reminds Alec that he hasn’t dated anyone in quite a while. With the launch of his newly founded event planning company and all the running around to get people to hire him, he’s barely had time to go out to find a boyfriend or even just to hook up with a handsome stranger in some club. It’s not like he is getting desperate, but there is that itching in his fingers he only gets when he’s been alone for too long. His own hand can only give him so much pleasure, after all.

After Clary leaves, their small group quickly disbands, Izzy heading off to her kickboxing class, while Simon mumbles something about needing to see a guy about a key. Normally Alec would be all over that, but he has to get his suit from the cleaners and then head to the Institute to oversee the party setup for tonight, so he leaves his sister’s boyfriend to his secrets.

When he arrives at the Institute, everything seems to be going according to his very detailed plan, so all Alec has to do is to make sure that the waiters turn up on time and have their costumes with them. The installation of the morphing mirror causes the tech guy a bit of a headache, but Alec quickly sorts it out by having one the Morgenstern company’s employees pitch in, resolving the issue within mere minutes.

 

***///***

 

The party is in full swing, music blasting through the speakers, waiters in hats moving through the crowds with trays of food and drinks, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Alec stands close to the entrance, keeping an eye on the whole event, not ready to congratulate himself on a successful night just yet. The evening is still young and things can still go sideways.

“Check it again,” a voice says somewhere behind him, making Alec look over his shoulder. The doorman, Raj, browses through the guest list in his hands, but eventually shakes his head, looking up. “I told you, I’m on the list.”

The voice, Alec realizes, belongs to a devilishly handsome man with dark hair and dark eyes. His face is twisted in slight annoyance, but there is still something extremely interesting about him. The soft curve of his mouth and the neatly combed hair stir something in Alec and he feels himself flush from head to toe. His feet carry him closer to the two men arguing, eyes focused on the uninvited Asian guest.

“You’re not here,” Raj says, shaking his head at the handsome stranger.

“What seems to be the problem?” Alec inquires when he gets closer, raking his eyes up and down the apparent intruder. The suit he is wearing is a perfect fit, although the brown color is not really to Alec’s taste. He prefers statement garments like his own purple shirt, but the stranger’s red patterned top is much more pleasing to his sense of fashion. Maybe there is a bit of an aficionado in there after all.

“This one wants to crash the party,” Raj supplies helpfully, but Alec is already too far gone. He stares at the handsome stranger, a slight smile playing around his lips. He’s rarely felt this kind of immediate attraction, so he’d be stupid to let someone like that get away so easily.

“I’ll be responsible for this one,” he says smoothly, beckoning him forward. “Come on in.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, heading straight for the next waiter and grabbing two teacups from her tray. He hands one to his new guest, and clinks them together in a toast.

“To us.” Not moving his eyes from the other man’s face, Alec takes a sip from the delicious wine cooler. That he earns a smile at that, lets a delighted shiver race down his back. “And you are?”

“Magnus Bane,” the handsome not-stranger-anymore replies.

“Alec Lightwood.” His eyes travel up and down Magnus’ body again, his mind helpfully supplying him with a perfect mental image of strong arms and muscular thighs.

“Thanks, but… I gotta go,” Magnus stutters suddenly, leaving Alec standing before he can say anything to stop him.

Watching him go, he can’t help but smile to himself. “Playing hard to get. I love a challenge.”

Magnus moves towards Clary, who first seems taken aback by his approach, but quickly catches on. Their heads are close together, a heated conversation going on before Clary takes his hand and drags him off. Suddenly, a hand clamps down on Alec’s shoulder and he turns around to come face to face with Mr. Morgenstern.

“Alec, what a fantastic party. Everything looks amazing,” the CEO says, giving him a big smile.

Alec repeats the gesture, ducking his head. “Thank you, Mr. Morgenstern. And thank you again for the opportunity.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Isabelle and Clarissa spoke so highly of you, what else could I have done. But you’re welcome,” he replies, clinking his cup with Alec’s. “Right, I’d better get back to mingling.”

Alec nods, intending on doing the same thing himself. Scanning the crowd, he can’t see Magnus or Clary anywhere, so he joins his sister and Simon, who are chatting animatedly we the other members of Simon’s band.

At the end of the evening, Alec can draw the conclusion that he was born to plan events like this. Simon’s band has been a raging success, the dance floor still packed after their second encore. Izzy yells in his ears about the key Simon got her for his apartment for the millionth time that night, but he can’t begrudge his little sister’s happiness. Clary and Jace, who also vanished somewhere during the party – and Alec does _not_ want to know where these two went and what they did-, are back to watch the fireworks outside for the grand finale. Whatever issues they have had earlier seem to have been resolved and Alec can see them kissing passionately next to the steps leading to the main entrance.

He is reminded of a certain someone he has lost track of for most of the night, and a quick look around reveals that Magnus Bane is still nowhere to be found. Scanning the crowd more carefully for a second time, Alec suddenly catches sight of a dark head moving towards the ground’s exit. Abandoning his post next to the Institute’s doors, he hurries to catch the man before he leaves.

“Magnus, hold up!” Alec calls out, when he sees him hailing a cab from the side of the street. The other turns around, eyebrows raised in surprise when he sees Alec jogging towards him.

“Alec, was it?”

He nods, giving him the most dashing smile he can muster. “Are you leaving already?”

“Oh, uh, yes. I have a client in the morning.”

Alec’s ears prick up at that. “I never got the chance to ask what it is you do for a living.”

A slight blush creeps up Magnus’ face and he looks down at his shoes, seemingly embarrassed.

“I don’t mean to pry, of course. I just thought I’d ask you to join me for another drink before you go,” Alec is quick to say when he realizes Magnus might not be comfortable with talking about his job. Though that only makes him more intrigued about getting to know the other man better.

“That, um, that’s really kind of you, but I should really head home. Early start and all.”

Alec’s face falls. He knows when he’s being rejected, although Magnus is trying to be kind about it. And here he thought they had a special connection. “Right, I understand. Well, have a good night, then.”

He moves away when a taxi pulls up next to the curb and Magnus turns to open the door. Alec sighs disappointedly and starts heading back to the party.

“Alec, wait.”

He turns around, surprised, only to find Magnus inches from his face. He makes a startled noise when hands grab the lapels of his jacket and pull him down. Soft lips crash against his and it takes Alec a second to realize he is being kissed. But then his mind catches up to his body and he returns the kiss enthusiastically. Holding on to Magnus’ waist with both hands, he leans in to press closer to the other, heat radiating between their bodies. Magnus pulls away, suddenly, Alec unconsciously following his mouth before he realizes what he is doing. They stare at each other for a moment, before Magnus moves back in, turning the hesitant kiss into a more passionate one.

Alec gasps when teeth graze his lower lip and his skin breaks out in goosebumps. He has shared many kisses with many different people in his life, but this one feels special. Hands still clinging to Magnus’ sides, Alec thinks they could go on forever like this, their shared breath hot between each other’s lips. The honk of a car drives them apart, both panting and staring at each other in shock. Alec’s lips tingle and his face feels pleasantly flushed, heart pounding out a quick staccato in his chest.

“That was amazing,” he exclaims, an embarrassed blush deepening his already red face.

Magnus’ laugh warms Alec’s heart and he passes something into his hands. “Give me a call sometime. Soon.” With that he turns around, climbs in the waiting car and slams the door shut.

Alec stares after the taxi as it drives into the night, raising a hand to his still tingling lips. That was a whirlwind of a first meeting, he thinks, smiling softly. Alec then looks down at the card Magnus has put in his hand, realizing it’s a calling card.

_Magnus Bane. Tarot Card & Psychic Readings. _

Something about it rings a bell, but Alec isn’t sure why that sounds so familiar. There is a number on there, and another handwritten one added. The word “Soon” is scribbled on the card’s other side and Alec can’t help but laugh. This going to be one hell of a ride, but he can’t wait to meet Magnus again and see where this journey will take them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, I changed Alec’s line of “Jace is dead to me”, if anyone is wondering. Despite everything that has happened, I just don’t think he would actually say something like that. Or at least, he doesn’t really mean it. That’s why I cut it from the scene. Call it artistic freedom or something.
> 
> On a different note, I was giggling the whole time while writing the alternate universe part. I’m not sure if it came out the right way, but it was kinda fun playing around with that Alec and Magnus. And yes, I used a reversed version of their kiss from 1x12 at the end there. Hope that was obvious. ;) 
> 
> Anyway, only one more chapter before the big Malec episode. I’m so excited. Also, _Shadowhunters_ returns in two weeks! Who else is excited? *throws confetti*
> 
> Check out my tumblr at light-in-the-wood. xxx


	8. Blood Calls For Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I changed a small detail from the actual episode again, because I wanted a specific interaction to take place. But it obviously didn’t make sense with the way the episode is structured. For more on this, look in the endnotes.
> 
> I’m so thankful for over 100 kudos and all your lovely comments. Those really keep me going. Now, this chapter was quite something, because I feel like a lot happens behind the scenes with Alec, the trial, Magnus, Izzy, Lydia and the Inquisitor. I hope I caught it all and that it makes sense.
> 
> Anyway, it’s finally Malec time next chapter. Can’t wait. Happy reading! :D

The only thing Alec can think about while he paces his parents’ office, is how he has let his sister down. Now that Jace and Clary are lost somewhere and the Cup is out of their reach, Izzy faces the charge of high treason. And although Alec knows that Lydia would much rather not see his sister banished and stripped of her runes, there is no stopping it now. Izzy is not thinking highly of his fiancée, anyway, which is also not helping their situation.

She seems somewhat resigned, so he kneels next to her, grasping her elbow in a gentle grip. “Izzy, listen,” he says softly. She turns her face towards him, eyes sad. “I’m your big brother. Please. Let me help you for once.”

All their lives, she has been there for him, mind and heart open, never judging or demanding. She has never put the same kind of pressure on him the way his parents do and never expects him to be anyone else than who he is. She knows him better than anyone, including Jace and maybe even himself. Sometimes Alec can still see the little baby she had been all those years ago, dark hair peeking through the blanket she had been wrapped in, sleeping in their mother’s arms. Alec doesn’t know how he remembers, but he does. Maryse had told him to sit still and hold is arms out and then she had placed the tiny baby in his lap. She had continued to sleep peacefully, her closed eyes framed by long, dark lashes. He had stared down at her in wonder, his heart thumping in his chest. And he had known even then, only two-and-a-half-years old himself, that he would do anything in his power to protect her and see her happy, always. Izzy has taken his hands so many times throughout the years, both literally as well as figuratively, constantly helping, never pushing or pulling, and never asking for anything in return but his love. And he loves her, so much.

Alec looks into her brown eyes, so much darker than is own, and he tries to project all the confidence to his face. “I will fix this, Iz, I promise.”

She regards him pensively, her expression still closed off, but carefully hopeful. “Don’t promise something you don’t know you can keep, big brother,” she says eventually, but giving him a warm smile anyway.

He clenches his yaw, knowing that she is right, of course. “I’ll go talk to Lydia again. See if there’s anything she can do.” Determined, Alec gets up from his crouch, letting go of her arm. Isabelle nods, staying seated on the arm of the sofa, turning her head towards the stain-glass windows. The sun filtering through gives her hair a fiery glow, almost making it look like a red halo around her head.

Alec leaves the office, the door closing behind him with a deafening sound of finality. He gives his head a quick shake, trying to stay positive and not let the negative emotions overrun him again. He needs to be strong now, for Izzy.

Marching off towards the ops center, he meets Lydia in the entrance hall, where she just rushed around a corner, breath accelerated and cheeks slightly flushed. “There you are!” she exclaims when she sees him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Her expression doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, so Alec steels himself. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a second, smoothing down an imaginary loose strand of hair from her forehead. “What is it?” Alec asks more emphatically, brows drawn together.

“I just got a message from the Clave… The Inquisitor is coming.”

It feels like his whole body has become a giant block of ice, completely frozen on the spot. His heart seems so miss a few beats and then picking up twice as fast. “When?” he forces himself to say, hands suddenly feeling clammy and cold at his sides. It’s never a good sign when the Clave’s head investigator and law enforcer comes to an Institute, especially on such short notice. It really doesn’t bode well for Izzy and her trial.

Lydia touches his arm and he looks down at her. She nudges her head towards the ops center, and Alec quickly falls into step with her. The automatic doors slide open in front of them when she says: “The message said: ‘Have everything ready, the trial will begin immediately’. She’s on her way.” It’s the worst possible news. He thought they could delay the trial, especially because it’s just a cover for trying to get the Mortal Cup. But with Jace and Clary out there somewhere, Alec hadn’t thought that Inquisitor Herondale would turn up here so quickly, if at all. There’s nothing she can do to bring the Cup back to the Institute anyway.

Alec can’t even finish his thought before the doors open behind him and the Inquisitor herself comes storming in. He steps aside when she dismisses him with a steely look in her eyes, but stays close by to listen to what she has to say. His heart sinks with every word coming out of her mouth. Although he has to agree that it’s less than ideal that Clary is out there with the Cup, he is sure that the behavior exhibited by any of them over the last two weeks, although not technically legal, can’t be compared to that of Valentine or the Circle. Yes, Alec and the others broke the law and didn’t follow Clave orders, but they never did something truly harmful nor did they kill anybody in the process. They didn’t cause any chaos and most of it was for the good of the Clave, anyway.

Lydia lets the Inquisitor talk all over her, but she holds her head high and doesn’t flinch once. Alec is strangely proud of her for not cowering in front of the Clave official. He knows that she can’t refuse her orders, but at least she takes it with a grain of salt. When Inquisitor Herondale turns around, she pins him with a steely gaze, her blue eyes like shards stabbing into him. He swallows, but holds his ground, not avoiding her fixed stare.

“Lightwood,” she says, stopping in front of him. “Your sister keeps interesting company, frolicking with seelies. She doesn’t really take after your parents, now, does she? Not that it makes it any better.” Her lips curl in distaste. “And you… Having vampires and werewolves go in and out of the Institute, consulting warlocks like Magnus Bane on a regular basis… Maybe the Clave should have ordered you back to Idris as well, young man.”

Alec tries to keep his face completely still, neutral of any sort of emotion. He will take the abuse about himself and even his parents, but he has a hard time ignoring the Inquisitor’s comments on Isabelle. Luckily, she only looks him over once more, before charging off, signaling Lydia to follow her.

Alec lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and just stands there in the ops center for a moment, while his fellow Shadowhunters scramble to take up their tasks again. Eventually, he turns around and heads back to the office.

Izzy still sits on the sofa, idly playing with a lock of her long, dark hair. She looks up at him, surprised, but her expression darkens when she sees his gloomy face.

“The Inquisitor just arrived. The trial starts tonight.”

Izzy’s mouth pops open and she stares at him incredulously. “ _Tonight_?” Alec nods, his insides twisting painfully together.

“I’m so sorry. The Clave wants the Cup and they are getting desperate,” he explains, moving towards the desk and leaning against it. “With Clary and Jace out there, they only have you to make an example of. But they don’t really want you, the Inquisitor basically said so herself. This is about Valentine and the Cup and nothing else.”

Izzy huffs in frustration and gets up from the sofa. She turns her back to him, staring through the window for a moment. Alec waits silently, mind racing. They need to do something, come up with some sort of defense. Technically, the Clave doesn’t have any evidence incriminating Izzy other than Raj’s testimony. And he never actually saw her or the others. Only Alec could confirm their whereabouts, and he’s not going to say anything about anyone. Well, and then there’s Lydia, but he doubts she’ll get involved even further.

“You know what,” Izzy suddenly says, turning back to face him, her voice angry. “I’d rather be stripped of my runes and sent into exile than be part of this world. What kind of people sacrifice justice for law?”

“That’s very noble, Izzy,” Alec replies, moving towards her. “But the high road is not going to look so great when you’re running for your life from a pack of demons, with no Shadowhunter powers to protect you.”

“Jocelyn lived as a mundane,” she states stubbornly.

“You know Jocelyn had her runes and her weapons.” Alec needs her to understand that this is different. Izzy’s situation can’t be compared to Clary’s mother leaving Valentine and her old life behind after the Uprising. “You think the demons won’t find you? You haven’t exactly kept a low profile.” He comes to stand next to her at the window, sighing. “You can’t just let them convict you. You need an advocate.”

Izzy still has her back to him, but at his words, she suddenly turns around. “What do you mean? Like a lawyer?”

Alec nods. “Yes, exactly. Someone who knows the law and will talk in your defense. Someone that is not me.” 

She looks up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Alec frowns, a bad feeling creeping up his spine at the look on her face. “What? Do you have someone in mind?”

“Yes, in fact,” she replies, her mouth spreading into a slow smile. “I have someone very specific in mind.”

“Who?” Alec asks eagerly. They don’t have much time, and whatever he needs to do, he will get some legal counsel for his sister no matter what.

Her smile turns wicked and she leans closer. “Magnus,” she says in a hushed, conspirative tone.

Alec’s eyebrows shoot up and he stares at his sister. “As in Magnus _Bane_?” He didn’t know what to expect but it certainly isn’t that. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Izzy asks, smirking up at him. “He’s an excellent talker and he’s had more dealings with the Clave than we had. Haven’t you read his file?”

Alec splutters, a blush creeping up his neck. “He’s a warlock, Isabelle. He can’t defend you in front of the Inquisitor. And if you’re just doing this because of me...”

“Oh please, this isn’t about you.” Izzy shrugs her shoulders, turning away from him. “He’s the only one I can think of. So if you don’t have a better idea, I guess I’ll prepare myself for life in exile.”

He stares at his sister, raising a hand to run over the back of his neck. She’s right, there isn’t anyone else he can think of either. Although he is sure that Magnus can’t act as Izzy’s advocate because of Clave rules, he can’t deny her to at least ask the warlock for his help. As much as he just wants to avoid him after their last interaction, he owes his sister that much. Maybe Magnus will come up with another idea instead. He seems to like Izzy, after all, so perhaps he’s willing to help.

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Alec nods eventually. “Okay, I’ll ask him.”

Izzy faces him again, eyebrows raised. “You will?” She sounds more surprised than Alec feels comfortable with. What is she thinking, that he’s just going to let her get sentenced without trying to save her?

“Of course. You’re my sister and I will do anything to keep you safe, I promise. If there’s any chance that Magnus can help, then we need to take it.”

Her expression softens at his confession. She steps towards him, winding her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest. His own come up to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer against him. He puts his nose in her hair, breathing in the aroma of coconut shampoo and her unique Izzy-smell. It reminds him of home and warmth and love.

Alec pushes her away eventually, hands on her shoulders, and looks into her eyes with conviction. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She nods understandingly and he bends to place a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes are hopeful when he moves towards the door to head over to Magnus’ place and that gives him the boost of confidence he needs.

 

///

 

On the way to Brooklyn, Alec keeps going over and over in his head what he wants to say to Magnus. He suspects he won’t necessarily be welcomed with open arms, but he vows not to be send away before he has tried everything to help Izzy. However, he isn’t even sure Magnus will agree to see him, let alone defend Izzy in front of the Clave. He has no reason to help them, especially after how Alec and other Shadowhunters have treated him. If apologizing for his behavior will help, then he is willing to do anything, whatever it takes.

When he arrives at Magnus’ apartment building, he is glad the downstairs door is open and he can enter without have to rely on being buzzed in. Taking the elevator to the top floor, he tries to calm his racing heart. When the doors open, he walks down the corridor, hesitating in front of the warlock’s entryway. With a deep breath, he raises his hand and knocks against the wood three times before he can chicken out. His face feels hot and he surreptitiously wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans. Nothing happens though and his heart begins to sink. Alec tries a second time, rapping his knuckles harder against the door. He waits a moment, then leans forwards to try to listen for any noises coming from the loft.

He doesn’t hear anything and therefore jumps back in surprise, when the door is suddenly ripped open and he is face to face with a very annoyed looking Magnus. Alec stares at him, stomach doing somersaults in his midsection, as he takes in the warlock in all his handsome glory. Magnus is wearing a turquoise satin shirt with delicate, golden embroidery along the collar and soft-looking, dark pants. His shirt is open pretty far down his chest, revealing slips of smooth, brown skin and several necklaces peeking through. His eyes, which look Alec over with an unreadable expression, are rimmed with dark kohl.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Magnus purrs, puckering his lips into a smirk. “What brings you to my doorstep, Alexander?”

A shiver runs down Alec’s back and the blush on his face deepens. “I, um,” he begins, clearing his throat against the sudden hoarseness of his voice. “Can I come in?”

Magnus regards him for a moment, then waves him in with a flick of his hand, leading the way to his living room. “Tired of bickering over the guest list for your wedding?” he asks, sighing in a mockingly annoyed fashion.

“I need to ask you something,” Alec replies evasively. Come to think of it, Lydia and he haven’t even had time to discuss any wedding details so far, both too focused on the search for Valentine and the Cup, the whole Meliorn disaster and now Izzy’s impending trial.

“Hmm,” Magnus hums, heading straight for his serving tray and starting to prepare a drink. “Will it take long? I have a life to live and there’s not much for us to talk about.”

Alec has expected to be given the cold shoulder, but it still hurts that Magnus just dismisses him like this. “It’s not about me, or… any of that,” he says carefully. “This is about my sister.”

He is ready to explain what has happened, but Magnus surprises him when he turns around, smirking. “Oh, I see. Are you referring to the fact that your adorable fiancée has Isabelle on trial for treason?” He picks up his drink and sits down on a comfortable looking armchair, crossing his legs gracefully. “What can I do for you, Alec?”

He is taken aback for a moment and hesitates. How does Magnus know about the trial in the first place? Alec quickly tears his mind away, remembering that time is of the essence. “My sister wants you to be her defense attorney. I said I would ask,” he says instead. “But I’m sorry to bother you, I know a Downworlder can’t defend a Shadowhunter in court.” He turns to leave, already feeling defeated. What is he going to do now?

“But,” he hears Magnus’ voice interject, turning back to him, “a Shadowhunter accused of a crime can choose any advocate.”

“That can’t mean a Downworlder,” Alec says confused.

Magnus gives him a look, like he is wondering how Alec could have possibly survived in this world up until that point. “The Clave was so rigid and prejudiced back in what they call the Time of Angels that they didn’t dream of a Shadowhunter asking a Downworlder for help. They didn’t even bother to exclude us.”

Alec stares at the warlock. Magnus’ youthful appearance sometimes makes him forget how old the other man actually is and how much he has already lived through. He has only gotten glimpses into Magnus’ earlier life so far, so it’s still somewhat surprising to hear him talk so openly about a time when even Alec’s grandparents hadn’t been alive yet.

“So,” Magnus goes on, getting up from his chair and moving towards him, “since, as you all say: ‘the law is the law’… there’s no stopping me from slipping through this gaping loophole. For the right price.” He looks so pleased with himself, especially when he mimics those old, rigid members of the Clave, that Alec can’t stop the amazed smile spreading across his face.

At the mention of payment, he knows that he will deplete the whole of his family’s fortune if that is what it takes to save Izzy. “Name it.”

Magnus looks up from the drink in his hand and pins Alec with a look that makes his skin tingle and the heat creep up his neck.

“You.” Alec frowns, not sure that he has understood correctly. “In fact,” Magnus goes on, “I’ll do you pro bono.”

The young Shadowhunter is at such a loss for words that he simply stares at the warlock for a moment, heart galloping away in his chest like it’s trying to break through his ribcage. He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat, but his mouth is suddenly too dry. There is a whole storm of butterflies causing havoc in his insides and he has a hard time focusing on anything but Magnus’ lips. Part of him wants to scream “Yes” and throw himself at the warlock, smashing their mouths together in a passionate kiss. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in the other man and forget everything around them, all his responsibilities, all the pressure and problems and heartbreak. He just wants to fall head over heels into this thing that he can’t even properly name and just take something for himself for once. But he doesn’t. Because he can’t, he never can, and he never will.

Sighing, he shakes his head lightly, eyes shifting back and forth between Magnus’ face and the window. “Anything else?” he asks, hoping, praying that the warlock will move away from the innuendos and accept the seriousness of Alec’s plea.

Magnus sighs heavily and takes a step closer. “What else is important to you?” he asks, more to himself than to Alec, eyes narrowed and face pensive. “What else tells me that your sister means enough for you to make a real sacrifice?”

Alec frowns at him, never taking his eyes off Magnus as he moves back and forth in front of him. He wants to tell him that he knows about sacrifice, that he has already sacrificed a lot for his sister, his family, but the words don’t come out.

“Oh… I know,” the warlock suddenly mutters, turning back around and smiling at him knowingly. Alec braces himself, staring back anxiously. “Your bow and quiver. How about that?”

Alec suddenly feels cold, his stomach twisted in pained knots. He is shocked that Magnus has either somehow found out who gave him the bow, or he actually knows Alec well enough to have figured out how much it means to him. The bow had been a gift from his siblings for his 16th birthday. Izzy, Jace and Max had all chipped in – though technically Max had still been too young, only four years old-, saving up money for months to buy their big brother something useful but special. Alec had always been a good archer, definitely the best out of all of them, and had been so overwhelmed with gratitude, completely occupied with trying to hold back tears, that he hadn’t even been able to say anything. Jace had laughed, clapping his shoulder in a brotherly fashion, while Izzy had smiled at him proudly.

Alec opens his mouth, wanting to tell Magnus to think of something else, but the look on the warlock’s face, like he knows, like he’s just waiting for him to say no, halts him in his tracks.

Sighing, he takes a deep breath and raises his chin. He will not back down now. “Done.” Magnus looks pleasantly surprised and raises the glass to his lips, taking a sip from the orange drink. His eyes remain focused on Alec’s face above the rim of the cocktail.

He doesn’t know how long they stare at each other, but Alec eventually lowers his gaze to his shoes, scuffing them against the edges of Magnus’ expensive looking carpet. His shoulders hunch a bit and his head is spinning. He silently berates himself for being such an idiot about this; as long as his sister is safe, he should count himself lucky and thank Magnus, no matter what he’s asked for in return.

“I guess we should get going, don’t you think?” the warlock asks quietly, still standing very close to him.

Alec looks back up, his brows still drawn together, and nods silently.

“Well… I’m going to get changed then. Can’t appear in court dressed like this, now, can I?” He winks at the Shadowhunter, and makes the glass disappear with a snap of his fingers. Not that Alec has anything against the outfit the warlock is wearing, but it does look a bit… provocative? Casual? “I’ll be right back.” With that Magnus moves towards his bedroom, firmly closing the door behind himself, while Alec is left standing around in the living area. He suddenly feels awkward, completely out of place between Magnus’ furniture and things. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long until the other man returns, dressed in a smart-looking, perfectly tailored dark pinstriped suit and matching electric purple tie. If Alec thought Magnus had looked good before, he feels his face heat up again at his outfit now.

It takes him a second to realize that the warlock has asked him something, one eyebrow delicately curved over his dark eyes, an amused expression on his face at Alec’s furious blush. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked ‘are you ready’.”

“Um, yeah. Yes. Let’s go,” Alec stutters, turning on his heels and heading for the door.

“Alexander.” Magnus’ raised voice halts him in his tracks and he looks questioningly back over his shoulders. The warlock is still standing in his living room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What?” he asks confused. Weren’t they supposed to leave?

Magnus rolls his eyes at him, turning around and raising his hands. Blue sparks spring from the tips of his fingers and with a sweeping gesture, he opens a portal. Wind picks up in the loft, ruffling through Alec’s hair and jacket. Magnus beckons him closer with his index finger, a small smile playing on his lips. He moves towards him like being pulled on an invisible thread, coming to stand next to the warlock. The wind is stronger here, making the glasses clatter on the service tray.

“Do you give me permission to enter the Institute, Shadowhunter?” Magnus asks, tone suddenly devoid of any humor or warmth.

Alec is confused for a moment, partly because they are standing so close, then eventually catches up. Of course, being a warlock, Magnus needs a Shadowhunter’s invitation to step onto the Institute’s grounds. Trying to portal inside without it would bounce him right off the protective force field, which also keeps out unwanted mundanes, vampires and werewolves.

“Ah, um, yes, I, yes. I give you permission,” Alec quickly stutters.

“Fantastic,” Magnus smirks, then turns back towards the portal, holding out his hand. “Let’s go then.”

Alec stares down at the offered hand, his breathing accelerated and heart beating fast. At Magnus’ raised eyebrow, he gives himself a start and grabs the warlock’s hand. It’s pleasantly warm, only his large rings feeling cool against Alec’s skin. Magnus’ grip is sure and strong, as Alec is pulled forwards, straight through the portal. The wind around them tears at their clothes and hair, a rainbow of colors and images flashing past them. Alec feels a tugging sensation around his navel, like he is falling, but at the same time, he can feel solid ground under the soles of his feet. Magnus keeps pulling him, hands clasped tightly together, and Alec follows without protest or fear. Seconds later, which feel more like minutes, they step through on the other side and find themselves in a corridor in the Institute. After a quick look around, Alec realize they are in front of his own room.

“How convenient,” Magnus says, a lopsided grin on his face. With a start, Alec notices they are still holding hands and quickly draws away. Ignoring the warlock’s comment, he signals Magnus to follow him and they head for Lydia’s office. Alec is silent on the way, trying to not pay attention to how close Magnus is walking, the heat radiating from his body warming his own side.

Knocking once, Alec doesn’t wait for a reply at the office door and walks in, Magnus at his heels. Lydia is standing next to her desk, the Inquisitor seated in her chair. Both women look up at their entrance, the blonde gaping at Magnus’ presence, while the older narrows her eyes dangerously.

“What is the meaning of this, Lightwood?” the Inquisitor asks, standing up behind the desk. She is a tall woman, but not as tall as Alec or even Magnus, so neither of them feels particularly impressed by her straight figure. “What is the warlock doing here? Who invited you, Bane?” Alec clenches his jaw to keep quiet, but it’s not like Magnus needs his protection.

“A pleasure, as always, Inquisitor,” the warlock says sweetly, indicating a slight bow. She bristles, trying to stare him down. “I was invited by the Lightwoods to serve as Isabelle’s attorney.”

“What?” Lydia asks, surprised, while the Inquisitor, at the same time, blurts out: “But you can’t!”

“I can and I will.” Magnus is serious now, the playful demeanor from before gone. “Unless you don’t want one of yours to have legal representation?”

Alec remains silent, watching the Inquisitor’s face twist in anger. He notices that she doesn’t address the law that a Downworlder can’t defend a Shadowhunter in court, realizing that she is apparently aware of that little-known loophole Magnus informed him about earlier.

“Fine,” she finally agrees grudgingly. “The trial will start immediately, so I suggest you make your way to the operation center.”

“Madame Inquisitor,” Magnus cuts in, “I will have to confer with my client before that. As I’m sure you’re aware, that is her right.”

Alec is amazed that the warlock doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about the power the Clave’s enforcer holds and part of him envies him for it. The Inquisitor grinds her teeth together, her eyes practically drilling holes in Magnus’ head, then dismisses them with a flick of her wrist. “You have five minutes.”

Magnus doesn’t wait another moment, turning on his heels and walking out of the room. Alec shoots a quick look to Lydia, who just stares at him with wide, blue eyes, then hurries to follow him. Although not as long as Alec’s legs, Magnus has a bit of a head start. He only catches up to him in front of his parents’ office. Raj is still standing guard outside, watching the two of them curiously.

“That was, um, quite something,” Alec says lamely, trying to keep his voice out of earshot from the other Shadowhunter. Magnus looks up at him and gives him a big smile.

“I’ve been known to have that effect on people,” he replies, winking. Alec can’t help but grin back, suddenly feeling a bit more hopeful. If Magnus is not afraid to stand up to the Inquisitor this way, then hopefully he will be able to get Izzy acquitted.

Together they enter the office, where Izzy, now changed into a sleeveless blue dress, is pacing in front of the windows. She looks surprised to see Magnus, then rushes towards them and throws her arms around both of them. “Thank you!” she exclaims, voice wavering. Alec bumps into Magnus by the force of his sister’s hug, awkwardly patting her back. His whole side is squished against the warlock and he quickly tries to extricate himself from her strong grip.

“Easy there, darling,” Magnus says, making Izzy let go to look at them. “We still have the hardest part ahead of us.”

“But you’re here,” she says, her eyes shimmering wetly. “That’s more than I expected. So thank you, both of you.”

Magnus smiles, raising his hand to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Don’t thank me yet. This is one tough crowd and they have it out for you.”

“They just want the Cup,” Alec cuts in, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I know,” Magnus says, rubbing his chin pensively. “And that is our best line of defense. Let’s see if we can get this whole issue out of the way once and for all. I have a reputation to lose, after all. No one gets sentenced under my watch.”

The warlock’s confidence is almost contagious, although Alec realizes that part of it is just for their sake, to keep the morale up. He can see in Magnus’ eyes that he isn’t a hundred percent convinced this will turn out okay for his sister, but she seems so hopeful that he doesn’t say anything, just praying for the best.

 

///

 

Throughout the whole trial, which is a constant up and down of emotions, Alec has a hard time dividing his attention between what’s going on and how good and powerful and sophisticated Magnus looks in a suit. His arguments sound convincing to Alec and after Lydia joins their team and drops the case, everyone is up in arms, clapping and celebrating.

Alec’s elation about their apparent win is quickly dashed by the Inquisitor’s harsh sentence, however, the ground beneath his feet seemingly opening and plunging him into darkness. Izzy is escorted back to their parents’ office, where she will be kept until the 24 hours have passed. If they don’t find a way to locate the Cup until then, his sister will be banished from their midst. Alec can’t accept that. Magnus squeezes his arm once, then follows Izzy to her holding place, but he can’t even bring himself to go after him. He can only stare at the Inquisitor, who gives him an icy look and leaves the ops center along with her guard and the Silent Brother.

“Alec, I am so sorry,” Lydia whispers next to him. He looks down at her, feeling numb all over. Only an hour earlier, the world looked like a better place. But now, everything is bleak and meaningless. If his sister’s punishment goes through, there is no point in going on. She doesn’t deserve this and he can’t accept it.

Suddenly, the voices around him pick up, everyone turning around and pointing towards the entrance. As if on autopilot, Alec looks in the indicated direction and makes a double take at what he is seeing. It’s Jace, his blond hair shining like a beacon above the group of Shadowhunters surrounding him within seconds. Behind him, Alec can see Luke, his hand raised over a figure levitating in a bubble of green energy, and, walking next to him… “Clary,” he exclaims, voice sounding distant to his own ears.  

Lydia has already rushed towards them, with Alec slowly following behind, like he is afraid of waking up from a dream. He tries very hard not to hope, but his treacherous heart starts picking up in his chest, blood pumping through his limbs, bringing life back into them.

“Tell me you have the Mortal Cup,” he hears Lydia say, pushing through the crowd. “Jace, where is the Cup?”

His _parabatai_ just stares at her, his eyes somewhat unfocussed and despite their weakened bond, Alec can feel his pain in his own heart, see the agony radiating off his body. A distant thought about the reason behind it rushes through his mind.

“I have it,” Clary says, holding out the Cup with one hand. The other is hovering over the body next to her. Lydia makes a grab at it, but the redhead quickly pulls her arm away, searching for someone else in the crowd. When she spots Alec, she skirts around Lydia and comes to stand right in front of him. He stares down at her when she raises her hand again and holds the Cup out for him.

“We found my mom, so I don’t need it anymore,” she says quietly, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m sorry I took it, Alec. I really am. I hope we’re not too late.” And she sounds so serious that he can’t help but believe her.

He takes the Cup from her solemnly, its weight somewhat easing the solid despair in his heart. Lydia steps next to them, not easily being ignored, and addresses Clary. “Is it the real one?”

“Of course it is,” she answers, looking at the other woman. “I’m guessing you’re Lydia.”

“Take it to the Inquisitor,” Alec says to her, cutting a looming confrontation between the two of them short. He hands the Cup over to Lydia, who takes it with reverent attention. “Make sure my sister is set free.” She nods, giving him an encouraging smile, and immediately walks off in the direction the Inquisitor vanished in earlier.

With that weight taken off his mind, Alec can finally focus on the body Luke is still levitating in the entryway. It’s a woman, with long, red hair, darker than Clary’s, apparently asleep. She is quite obviously Clary’s mother, Jocelyn Fairchild.

“Let’s take her to the infirmary,” Clary says, turning back to her mom’s sleeping figure. Luke and she move forwards together, while Jace stays where he is, looking after them with a pained expression.

Before Alec has a chance to address his brother, he shoots him an angry look and stalks off after his girlfriend. Alec hesitates, noticing the other Shadowhunters still mingling about, trying not to pay too close attention to them, but secretly listening in. “Don’t you have work to do?” he says testily, watching them scatter off to their different tasks. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and follows his brother towards the hospital wing.

In front of the infirmary, Luke and Hodge are talking quietly amongst themselves. They nod at Alec as he passes them and makes his way behind the protective screen. Clary is sitting next to her mother, looking small and tired. Jace stands a few feet away, his face pinched uncomfortably. A part of Alec wonders about that, especially why he is not consoling his oh-so-beloved Clary.

With a stoic face and crossed arms, he waits for Jace to acknowledge him. Eventually his brother looks over, his face as angry as his own probably is. It just reminds Alec that they are not fine, that there are still issues that need to be addressed. He’s just not sure that here, now, is the right time and place for it.

“We brought the Cup back. I hope you’re happy,” Jace says quietly.

“Okay.”

“’Okay’? That’s it, Alec?”

He looks up at his _parabatai_ , brows drawn together. It is definitely not the right time or place. “I don’t want to get into it.” He turns to leave.

“Stop,” Jace calls out, walking down the few steps to be on Alec’s level. “I _do_ want to get into it. You almost killed me. You weakened our _parabatai_ bond just to find me.”

They stare at each other, neither wanting to lose their ground. “You betrayed me,” Alec counters. “You lied to me. You attacked me when I was doing what we should’ve been doing together.”

“I didn’t betray you, Alec, I saved you from yourself!” And there it is again, Jace’s constant conviction that he always knows best. Although his talk with Izzy changed Alec’s position on the whole Meliorn deal, he is not willing to back down now. “If you’d have taken Meliorn to be tortured, you would have that on your conscience for the rest of your life.”

“Really?” Alec scoffs.

“Really.”

“Everything you do is for a higher principle,” the dark-haired Shadowhunter says, eyes narrowed. “You took the Cup, and you nearly handed it over to Valentine.”

“That was not our intention. You know that,” Jace mutters with gritted teeth.

“’Our intention’?” Alec looks back at Clary, who is so engrossed with watching her mother sleep that she doesn’t seem to notice the two of them fighting. “Was it your attention to risk Izzy’s life or hers? This isn’t about Clary, this is about you!” A part of him feels satisfied at the chagrin, guilty look in his brother’s eyes. “Now, I’m going to tell _my_ sister that she still has a future.”

Jace’s brows draw up and together in a pained expression, but Alec is too tired and angry to care. He turns around and leaves the infirmary, heart both feeling lighter now with Izzy being safe, and heavier with the still existing rift between Jace and him.

 

///

 

His sister’s happiness is like balm for the soul, rubbing off on Alec until Magnus reminds him of his outstanding payment. Leading the warlock to the weapons room, he takes his treasured bow as well as his quiver and arrows from their hangers. With a last look and a heavy heart, he holds the objects out to the warlock.

“As promised… payment in full. Thank you.” Their fingers touch when Magnus takes the bow from him, part of Alec not wanting to let go. He looks away when the other man turns away, preparing to leave.

“I just want you to know, Lydia was wonderful in court,” Magnus says, shifting back around. “She’s great.”

“So you get it,” Alec replies, heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t thought Magnus of all people would just accept his decision, and part of him isn’t sure he wants him to.

“No, Alec,” comes the quick denial. “I get _her_. I like her. But you don’t have to marry her.”

“Yes, I do, Magnus.”

“You will be lonely all your life, and so will she. Neither of you deserve it.” Alec wants to protest, but the words don’t come out. He’s not even sure what to say to that; everything sounds false, even in his own head. His gaze moves away and back again, his breath coming out in quick huffs. “And I don’t either.”

There are no words, so both of them just stand there, until Magnus lowers his eyes, sighing. “I don’t know what to do with these.” He holds out the bow and quiver. “You keep them for me.”

Alec stares at him, unsure if it’s a trick and if so, what the warlock is aiming to achieve. But he gives him an encouraging nod, so Alec carefully takes the weapons back from the other man.

“Think of me when you shoot your arrows,” Magnus whispers, face suddenly close, his hot breath tickling Alec’s skin. He can’t help but look down at the warlock’s lips at those words, heart skipping a beat and cheeks heating up. Then Magnus is gone, and Alec is left standing around in the weapons room, wondering what just happened. He looks down at his bow as if that holds the answer.

When he returns to his parents’ office eventually, he is surprised to find Lydia and, unfortunately, the Inquisitor with Izzy.

“Close the door behind you, Lightwood,” the older woman says, beckoning him in. “As I was just saying, your sentence is lifted, Miss Lightwood. But let it be a lesson to you that the law is not to be meddled with.” Izzy nods solemnly, but Alec knows her better than that. If she thinks something is unjust, she will act accordingly, no matter the consequences. “Branwell, I will leave the Cup in your care, until suitable transportation can be arranged.” Lydia bows her head in understanding, but also remains silent.

The Inquisitor moves to the door, stopping next to Alec to look him up and down. “You should realize that your… _involvement_ with that warlock didn’t go unnoticed, young man. I will be keeping an eye on you.” Alec’s heart starts pounding, but he doesn’t even blink. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Branwell, marrying into this family.”

Without waiting for a reply, she is out the door, which clunks shut behind her. All three of them wait for a moment, before letting out a collective breath of relief.

“She is… quite something,” Izzy says carefully, sinking down on the sofa. She kicks her heels off and leans against the backrest.

Lydia snorts and rests against the desk. “Couldn’t agree with you more.”

Alec suddenly feels awkward, what with his sister, his fiancée and himself being alone in a room together for the first time. He clears his throat, leaning against the wall by the door, crossing his arms. “Lydia, I meant to say thank you. For what you did at the trial.”

Lydia smiles at him, but she looks a bit pained. “Don’t mention it. It was the least I could do, even though it didn’t work.”

“I’m grateful, too,” Izzy cuts in, turning towards the other woman. “It took guts to stand up to the Inquisitor like that.”

“I think you were braver than I was, Isabelle,” Lydia says quietly. Izzy doesn’t deny it, but they both smile at each other, a mutual understanding passing between them.

There is silence for a moment, until his sister claps her hands together and looks at Alec expectantly. “Okay, so now that my trial is over and Clary and Jace are back, let’s start planning that wedding of yours!”

Alec stares at her, taken aback by the sudden change of direction. “Izzy, I don’t think now is a good time- “

“Oh hush, Alec. Now is the perfect time. I’m guessing neither of you has spent any actual thought on seating arrangements, music, flowers, invitations or any of that kind yet, am I right?” The awkward silence that follows is confirmation enough. “I thought so. Well, I guess I will have to take over then. Any specific wishes from any of you?”

Alec stays silent. He’s not really into parties, has only been to one wedding when he was younger and generally never thought about how he would want to get married, let alone what kind of flower arrangement he might prefer.

“I, uh, I don’t want anything big,” Lydia mutters carefully, shooting a glance in Alec’s direction.

“That’s alright, we’ll keep it small and private. Just family and friends. And I guess we will have to invite some members of the Clave, but we’ll pick the nicest ones,” Izzy assures them, her smile wicked again. How she can focus on something like that literal minutes after she escaped a punishment of exile is beyond Alec. “How about the two of us sit together in the morning, Lydia, and go over a more detailed plan? I’m guessing you don’t really have any preferences, do you, Alec?”

He just shrugs his shoulders, confirming Izzy’s suspicion. He wonders if he should be more involved and excited, but Lydia’s expression seems placid enough. She doesn’t look bothered by his apparent lack of interest. She knows this is really just a means to an end, not a wedding conducted out of love. They both just want to have a nice day, without much turbulence and extravagance, restore Alec’s family name and honor and help Lydia’s career along. If they can run the Institute without Clave interference at the end of it, then that’s all they need.

“Uh, I guess I’m going to leave you to it, then,” Alec says eventually, pushing away from the wall. “We’ll talk in the morning?”

Izzy and Lydia both nod in agreement, so he bids them both goodnight. On the way to his room, Alec wonders again about what he has gotten himself into. His sister’s trial is barely over and now he has to deal with wedding planning, the rocky relationship with his brother, as well as Magnus’ words, which still haunt his mind.

When he gets to his room and sits down on his bed, taking of his boots, he can’t even remember the last time he’s had an actual full night’s rest. The last couple of days have mostly consisted of short catnaps, lots of coffee and the repeated activation of a stamina rune. However, his body can only function properly so long without some actual sleep, so as soon as his head hits the pillow, he is out like a light, still dressed in his clothes of the day and bedside lamp still on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know that technically we learn from the interaction between Jace and Alec at the end of the episode that Clary gave the Cup to Lydia. But I really wanted her to give it to Alec instead, as a bit of any apology. They kinda make up in 1x12, after all. That’s why this whole scene with them returning to the Institute is a bit different from the actual episode. I hope you like it anyway.
> 
> This is the longest chapter by far, but I’m quite happy with how it turned out. The next one is obviously extra special, but I also something completely planned for the one after that. And I don’t mean 1x13 right away… ;)
> 
> As always, check out my tumblr light-in-the-wood. xxx


	9. Magnus and Alec

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for taking so long in getting this chapter up. I hope the length will make up for it, though. I struggled writing this one, because I really wanted to get it right, especially Alec’s motivation at the wedding. I hope I managed and that you’ll like it.
> 
> I’m gonna try to finish the last episode of season 1 tomorrow and hopefully upload it before the new episode airs, but I can’t promise anything. The extra special one will have to wait for a bit longer, I’ll might make that as a sort of interlude between the two seasons.
> 
> And now, happy reading. Don’t be shy and tell me what you think. :D

The next week flies by in a blur. Alec and Jace are still not talking, though he hears from Izzy about the bombshell that dropped on his brother that Valentine is not only Clary’s father, but Jace’s as well. Part of him really wants to talk to him about it, even console him somehow, but he is tired of making the first step. However, he can feel his _parabatai_ ’s pain through their shared bond, which has gained new strength through their physical proximity. That, however, makes it even harder to keep his distance. Though they both try to avoid each other, the Institute’s grounds are not endless. And Jace’s room is literally only three doors down from Alec’s. They are not really talking, but can’t help but cross paths every now and then.

Alec is not happy with the situation, feeling like he needs Jace now more than ever, but the most stubborn part of him prevents him from being the bigger man and forgiving his brother. Despite what Jace has been through, what he’s learned and had to come to terms with recently, Alec needs to break the pattern. If they ever want to go back to having a normal relationship based on love and trust, then Jace has to seek him out first.

The part of the story where Jace and Clary have turned out to be siblings is weirding Alec out immensely. It’s not their fault, they didn’t know after all, but just the thought of falling for one’s sister, even making out with her, lets Alec break out in a cold sweat. He can’t even begin to imagine how these two must be feeling. He actually feels sorry for both of them, even though part of him still hasn’t forgiven everything that has happened. But Alec at least has to acknowledge that they brought the Cup back safely. Izzy would probably be on the run from demons, or even be dead by now, if it hadn’t been for Clary returning the Cup to the Clave.

On the plus side, now that they have found Jocelyn, Clary herself is much more docile. She doesn’t run off without telling anyone, follows the Institute’s rules and even goes back to training, sometimes with Isabelle, sometimes with Hodge or even alone. Alec hasn’t really made time to talk to her yet, but he knows he should thank her at some point or another. Unfortunately, his mind is occupied with his impending marriage to Lydia. The day after the trial, his sister and fiancée had put their heads together and within a day, most things had been discussed. The date had been set for the end of the week, invitations sent out the very next day, and suddenly Alec had been roped into decisions about table settings, flower arrangements and music. All he had wanted to do was find a secluded spot far away from it all, where he didn’t have to think about any of it. Luckily, Izzy had quickly realized that he just didn’t want to make any decisions, so she and Lydia had pretty much taken it on themselves to plan everything. Since it wasn’t Lydia’s first wedding, most things would be kept smaller, which Alec was more than grateful for. However, because of their family connections, dignitaries from the Clave were still set to attend the Branwell-Lightwood ceremony, something that irked Alec immensely.

Thinking about it now, he is surprised how quickly everything came together. They had only met a little over a week ago and the day after tomorrow, they would tie the knot. Alec’s hands feel cold when he regards the sample invitation Izzy had given him a few days ago. It looks nice, simple yet elegant, with a dark, swooping font on off-white paper stating his and Lydia’s names, as well as the time and place.  

A knock on his bedroom door makes him look up from the card in his hands. “Come in.”

His sister pokes her head in, her long dark hair falling in waves over her shoulder. “Alec, can I borrow you for a minute?”

“Sure,” he replies, dropping the invitation on his bedside table. He sees Izzy’s eyes following his movement, but she doesn’t comment on it, simply raising her eyebrows. “What’s up?”

“I’m still going through the list of warlocks who could have prepared that spell for Jocelyn, but I’m stuck. Care to help?”

Alec nods and follows her to the ops center. Sitting down at a computer together, he looks through the suspects she has narrowed the search down to. There are about 45 different warlocks on it, ranging across all continents and centuries.

“Tell me the criteria again,” Alec says, scrutinizing the list for any known faces.

“Well, Magnus said only a warlock more powerful than him could have put that spell on Jocelyn. And since it obviously wasn’t him, I’ve been trying to narrow it down,” Izzy explains, indicating the Clave’s data on the warlocks’ power levels.

Alec scrolls back and forth for a while, focused on anything his sister might have missed. “Those two don’t have any classification,” he says, pointing out a 250-year-old woman from Mexico, and a 128-year-old blue-skinned man from Los Angeles. “I’m pretty sure we can rule them out. This one as well, he’s too young.”

Izzy and Alec put their heads together and after about an hour, have the list down to 20. Some warlocks are either too closely connected to the Clave or have no affiliations with Shadowhunters whatsoever, while others had been under investigation during the time Jocelyn could have gotten the spell. Most of them are simply not strong enough, or at least that’s what Alec thinks, to be more powerful than Magnus. He’s not the High Warlock of Brooklyn for nothing.

“So…” Izzy says suddenly, her face unreadable when Alec looks over. His expression darkens immediately, pretty sure what she wants to say.

“Don’t go there, Iz.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” she defends herself, crossing her arms in front of her chest. One eyebrow raised over her dark eyes, she pouts at him.

“This is either about Jace or Magnus, and I’m really not in the mood for either,” he replies, cutting her off at the knees. Movement behind her head draws his attention and he sees Lydia walk through the ops center, head bowed over some papers. She doesn’t look up and therefore doesn’t notice him sitting there. “Do you think you can work on the rest of the warlocks alone?”

She looks over her shoulder, following the direction of his gaze, then turns back towards him. “Sure. I’ll get Jace and Hodge to help me. We’ve narrowed it down pretty far.”

“Thanks.” Alec gets up and hurries after his fiancée. They haven’t spoken at all today, and he somehow feels bad about letting her deal with all the wedding details on her own. He should probably offer to help, what with it only being a little over two days away. They haven’t had the chance of going over the ceremony itself or talk about what comes after.

When he turns the corner, Lydia is nowhere to be found, however, and Alec is unsure which way she went. Perhaps the infirmary? Maybe she wanted to check up on Jocelyn’s process. When he gets to the hospital wing, he only encounters Luke and Clary, who are talking quietly amongst themselves. He feels a bit awkward barging in on them like that, but Clary asks him to stay. She’s not wrong when she says that them thanking each other feels weird, but he is glad that they have mostly buried the hatchet now. It’s not like she will become one of his favorite people anytime soon, but maybe they can both learn from their mistakes and move onwards from here. Their little moment of comradery is interrupted by his phone signaling an incoming text.

_Alexander, I acquire your immediate presence._

“Magnus needs to speak with me,” he says, looking back at Clary. “He might have some information about how to wake your mother up or… stop Valentine. It’s important.”

“Yeah,” Clary agrees readily, giving him a thankful smile for his help.

It’s already getting dark outside when Alec makes his way to Brooklyn, the horizon burning with the orange light of the setting sun. Moving through the crowds of people, he can’t help but feel excited as well as nervous to see the warlock again. They haven’t talked since the trial, since Magnus spoke his mind about Alec’s marriage, and he’s not sure how tonight is going to go. He just prays to the Angel that they’ll be able to talk to each other without Alec’s heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, and without Magnus trying to change his mind about his marriage again. Part of him gets where the warlock is coming from, but Alec has made up his mind, has made a decision he is going to live with one way or another. Like he has tried to tell Izzy before, this is not about his own happiness, or even Lydia’s, but about what is best for his family. He will make that sacrifice and fulfill his duty, it’s the only way. Steeling himself, he vows to stay strong and certain in his decision and to not let anything the warlock might have to say influence his conviction.

When he gets to Magnus’ loft, the door is already open. Alec makes his way inside, carefully looking around. “Hello?” he calls, turning the corner to the living room. “Magnus? You said you needed to talk to me.”

“Nice to see you, Alec.” He turns towards the voice to his right and finds Magnus standing in his bedroom, smirking at him, wine glass in hand. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

Alec raises his hand to indicate his obvious presence, but his thoughts are derailed when the warlock snaps his fingers, a second glass full of red liquid appearing in his own hand.

“You know how I hate to drink alone,” Magnus says, chuckling. He moves closer to Alec, who simply stares at him. As much as he enjoys the warlock’s magic, he doesn’t want to let himself get roped into this cat-and-mouse game again. When the other man tries to clink their glasses together, the Shadowhunter turns away and puts it down on the table.

“I didn’t come here to drink,” he says, slightly irritated. His heartrate is picking up again, like it always does when he sees Magnus. He tries to keep his hands still at his sides and not wipe them against the legs of his jeans. “Do you have any information- “

“On the warlock who cast a spell on Jocelyn?” Magnus interrupts, rolling his eyes. “I’m looking into it. But we never really finished our conversation after Izzy’s trial. About your wedding?”

Alec swallows subtly, feeling his pulse hammer against the side of his neck. “There’s no conversation to be had. I’m getting married,” he replies, voice quiet. He wants his words to sound sure, but judging from the warlock’s narrowed eyes and slight curl of lips, he’s not convinced. “You and I, we understand marriage very differently. I’m a Shadowhunter. This is about family and tradition, honor- “

At that, Magnus’ head shoots up and he scoffs. “Honor? Where’s the honor in living a lie?”

Alec’s stomach is in knots, but he tries to ignore it. “What are you talking about?” Part of him knows what the warlock is referring to, but he tells himself not to listen to the doubts plaguing his mind. It’s his duty, after all. It’s honorable to marry Lydia, to restore the Lightwood name and gain control back over the Institute.

“What about love?” Magnus asks, moving closer to him. “Even Shadowhunters fall in love, Alec.” The younger man can only stare at the warlock, brows slightly furrowed. Alec wants to tell him that it’s not that easy, that love is not and can never be a motivator for a Shadowhunter to marry, or at least not the main one. He doesn’t know any couples that got together because they simply loved each other, not even his parents. As long as there is mutual respect and perhaps affection, that’s as good as it can get. Love is too impulsive, too unpredictable, and Shadowhunters need to be able to control their emotions. Lydia herself has experienced the consequences of ignoring tradition; Alec is not going to let the same happen to him. And besides, he will never truly love a woman anyway, he can’t. As much as he might want to, he has to accept the fact that he’s just not like that. So it’s better to cut himself off from feeling too much for anyone in that way.

“Just tell me you’re in love with Lydia, and I’ll stop,” Magnus goes on, hitting the nail right on the head. He’s so close now that Alec can see the glittery highlights in his eye makeup and feel the other’s soft breath on his face.

He opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Part of him wants to lie and just tell the warlock that he loves her, but he can’t. Magnus would see right through it anyway, so there is no point. “I don’t know,” Alec says instead, trying hard to keep his breathing under control. His heart is pounding in his chest and it feels like his head is spinning. “Why do you keep pushing?” Attack usually is the best defense, and Alec has a hard time focusing with Magnus so close and those dark eyes trained on him so intensely. “It’s just… You…”, he stammers, short of breath. The blood is rushing through his body and his ears are ringing, making it hard to concentrate. “You’re confusing me!”

Alec moves away from Magnus, trying to put some distance between them. His heart is hammering against his ribs and he feels slightly faint. This is so not going the way he imagined. He tries to tell himself to calm down and find that place of resolve he had reached earlier, but his head is spinning too much. He doesn’t get why he is suddenly so much more affected by the warlock then before. He feels like the world is moving in on him, the impending marriage, Magnus’ presence and all the pressure from outside weighing him down. Why does no one understand? Why can’t they just all leave him alone and accept his choices?

He has his back to Magnus and almost misses his next words. “Confusion is part of it. That’s how you find out if something’s there.” Alec turns back around, just as the warlock moves closer again. “Emotions are never black and white. They’re more like symptoms.”

Alec watches the other man with furrowed brows, mouth slightly open. Magnus moves even closer, slowly walking around him. Alec tries to keep his eyes on him, angling his body towards the warlock. “You lose your breath every time they enter a room,” Magnus whispers, face inches from Alec’s shoulder. The Shadowhunter inhales sharply, turning his head away. He can’t look at him, their proximity causing his body to shiver involuntarily. His heart is going into overdrive, making him feel lightheaded. He raises a hand to his chest, trying to calm down his racing heart and accelerated breathing.

“Your heart beats faster when they walk by.” It takes a second for Magnus’ words to register with him, but he quickly drops his arm, trying to pretend that everything is normal. Magnus is right behind him now, voice even lower. “Your skin tingles when they stand close enough to feel their breath.”

Alec can feel hot air hitting the back of his exposed neck, making him shiver again. His whole body is suddenly on fire and he tries to swallow around a lump in his throat. He moves around again to keep his back to Magnus, not wanting to expose himself like that. He can’t control the expression on his face, a deep blush reddening his cheeks. Why is it that no one can garner a reaction like that from him but the warlock? Why can’t he control himself around him?

Closing his eyes, Alec focuses on his breathing. Ruthlessly stomping down on the spiraling thoughts in his head, he schools his expression as best he can and faces the other man again.

“I know you feel what I feel, Alec,” Magnus says quietly, so much conviction in his voice and eyes. His eyes are still somewhat hesitant, yet full of open trust and hope.

Alec can’t take it. He can’t give Magnus what he wants, can’t be the person he wants him to be. There are other things in his life that need to take priority, despite what Alec himself might want. He can’t give in to any feelings he might have. “You don’t have any clue what I feel, so back off,” he replies, voice shaking. Moving away, he can’t help the next words tumbling out of his mouth. They pour out like water rushing from a leak in a dam, a dam he his has built around his heart. “This is all just a game to you, isn’t it? You flirt, you laugh, you use magic, but at the end of the day, what do you risk?” Magnus face is slightly twisted, eyebrows drawn together and mouth in a straight line. “Even if I did feel something for you,” Alec goes on, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him and admit to something he is not comfortable sharing, “you want me to give up my life for you? I have to do what’s right for me. I could lose my family, my career, everything! You just don’t get it.” Saying it out loud like that, for the first time, makes Alec realize how scared he truly is. Yes, part of him proposed to Lydia in order to restore the Lightwood name, to right his parents’ wrongs, but now he also recognizes the fear of losing everything in his life if he admits to having feelings for Magnus. And he does, as much as he may wish he didn’t. He cares for him. But he is also scared, scared of what others will think, of what they might do, how they will treat him; scared of what this will do to his family, his siblings, his parents’ standing with the Clave; scared of how it will affect his own position in the Institute and how it might drive him even further down the chain of command; and most importantly, scared of his own feelings for Magnus, a warlock, a _man_.

Magnus is staring at him now, with so much hurt in his eyes that Alec feels like his heart is being shredded to pieces. “You have a choice to make,” the warlock says quietly. Alec turns away, mind racing. “I will not ask again.” He wants to say that he has already made his choice, that he will marry Lydia no matter what, but when he turns back, Magnus is gone. Looking around, there is no sight of the warlock anywhere. Alec just stands there for a moment, heart clenching painfully in his chest. He gives in to the emotions threatening to overwhelm him and buries his face in his hands. He tries to take slow, deep breaths and closes his eyes. It feels like he is standing at the edge of a precipice and every moment now, he is going to fall. He doesn’t know anymore which way is up and which way is down, whether he will only hurt his family and himself by marrying Lydia. Only an hour ago, he had been full of conviction, now his heart once again feels heavy. But despite what a part of him, buried deep, deep down, might want, he can’t give in to the feelings of doubt.

Raising his head and wiping at the wetness in his eyes, he lets out a slow breath. The time of feeling sorry for himself is over. He needs to step up, own his responsibilities and fulfill his duty. He might never be truly happy with Lydia, but Alec tells himself that this is not what being a Shadowhunter is all about. He is a soldier, a leader, a warrior. And he will do what’s right for the greater good, regardless of his own personal sacrifice.

 

///

 

When he gets back to the Institute, it’s already way past midnight. The ops center is rather empty, only the nightshift milling about in front of the computer screens. Alec wants to head straight to bed, feeling tired to the bone, but he knows he should check on Lydia first. She’s not in her office, so he tries her room instead. Knocking softly, he listens for any noises from behind the wooden door. A few seconds later, Lydia opens it. She’s still dressed in her clothes from the day, though her hair is down from her usual tight ponytail, falling in golden waves around her shoulders.

“Oh, hey,” she says, seeming surprised to see him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. I just wanted to check on you, since we haven’t seen each other all today.”

Lydia gives him a warm smile and opens the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

Alec nods and moves inside, hearing the door click closed behind him. He leans against the desk in the corner of her room, while Lydia sits down on her bed. They remain silent for a moment, though he can feel her gaze on him.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone with all those wedding decisions,” Alec says eventually, looking over at her.

She chuckles and dismisses his apology with a flick of her hand. “Don’t worry about it. Isabelle has done most of it. Even I wasn’t that involved.”

Alec can’t suppress a small smile at the mention of his sister. Of course she would seize the opportunity to plan a party like that, considering how long it has been since they last had a wedding at the Institute. “Yeah, she tends to do that.”

“It’s actually great, that way I had time to deal with other things,” Lydia says. “I know we haven’t really talked about it, but I was thinking we could go to Idris for a few days, after the wedding. That way we can take the Cup to the Clave while we’re at it.”

Alec looks up at that. “Do you think it’s a good idea to leave now, what with Valentine still out there?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that too, of course, but I think the Institute can handle our absence for two days. I’m not proposing a week-long honeymoon, don’t worry.” She laughs at that, a slight nervousness to her tone though.

Alec swallows at the suggestion of a honeymoon and scratches the back of his head subconsciously. He hasn’t really thought about anything coming after the wedding itself, let alone anything involving… intimacy. He licks his lips surreptitiously, a blush creeping up his neck. “Um, I, er, I guess they won’t mind,” he stutters eventually, not missing the slightly pitying look in her eyes.

“Alec…” she says quietly, her gaze focused once more on him. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but have you… well, have you ever been with a wo-, with anyone? I’m only asking, because you know I’ve been married before, so I want us to be honest with each other.”

Alec just wants the ground to open and swallow him whole. His face is burning and he avoids looking at Lydia, but shakes his head after a moment’s hesitation.

She’s suddenly next to him, touching his arm lightly, trying to catch his eye. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about this now, okay? I know it’s uncomfortable, that’s why I thought it would be a good idea to get away for a few days. Get some peace and quiet, you know?” She gives him an encouraging smile.

Part of Alec is grateful for her thinking, agreeing that some time away might make it easier to talk. Then again, he has never even shared his lack of relationships or general difficulty with emotions with his siblings, so it feels weird talking to Lydia about it. Alec is pretty sure Izzy knows, and Jace probably too, but they’ve never asked and Alec has never mentioned it either. “I, um, I guess you’re right,” he says, clearing his throat. “I don’t have a lot of experience, but we, um, I hope we can work with that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lydia replies right away, giving his arm a squeeze. “We can take our time. Get to know each other properly first. The rest will come all on its own, I’m sure.”

Alec nods curtly, hoping to end this discussion quickly. Lydia seems to pick up on his reluctance and gives his shoulder a pat. “By the way, I received word from the Clave today that some dignitaries will be arriving tomorrow already. I think we should meet them together, you know, to present a united front.”

Alec nods again, agreeing readily. He doesn’t really want to pretend in front of members of the Clave, especially after what they did to his parents and almost did to Izzy, but he understands that this is simply politics. “I’ll be there.”

There’s nothing left to say, so Alec bids Lydia goodnight and trots off to his room. He barely manages to take off his boots, already asleep when his head eventually hits the pillows. His dreams are a confusing mess of white dresses, blood-red flowers and dark eyes rimmed by sparkling kohl.

 

///

 

Some of the next day passes in a blur. Lydia and he make their way to greet the Clave’s representatives, when a chance meeting with Magnus almost throws Alec back into losing it. He’s frustrated that no one has spoken to him about the mission, not even that they have managed to narrow down the list of warlocks to just one. He has heard of Ragnor Fell, of course, but didn’t consider him the prime suspect due to his lack of powers compared to Magnus. The warlock himself is giving him the cold shoulder, barely meeting his eyes, and Alec can’t really blame him for it. After their conversation last night, he is surprised Magnus has even agreed to come in to help the Shadowhunters in the first place. He is grateful to Lydia for subtly trying to diffuse the tension in the room, and gladly follows her to the meeting, leaving Clary, Jace and Hodge alone with the warlock.

Alec silently scolds himself when they leave the ops center. He needs to get a grip on his emotions and learn to deal with Magnus without his whole world threatening to come crashing down again. He can’t let himself be ruled by his feelings.

As expected, the meeting with the emissaries is boring and although most of them seem somewhat reluctant at their decision, they congratulate Lydia and Alec on their impending marriage and assure them of the Clave’s complete faith in their ability to run the New York Institute together. The admission is a load off Alec’s back, at least, confirming his belief that marrying Lydia has been the right choice.

A part of Alec is glad to hear that his parents are allowed to return later that day, now that the Clave has control over the Mortal Cup. While Lydia shows the members to his parents’ office to present the Cup to them, Alec heads to the elevators. He runs into Izzy on the way and they make their way to the ops center together. Alec is surprised at his sister’s lack of resistance when the issue of the wedding comes up again. Although she’s been planning it for days now, part of him still expected her to try to get him to change his mind, like she wanted to the day before. He loves her all the more for it, finally feeling like someone has accepted his decision. Her plans to throw him a bachelor party, however, only make him scoff. They’re Shadowhunters and not mundanes, so stag dos are not really on anyone’s agenda. Except his sister’s, apparently.

He spends most of the rest of the day working. With all that has been going on lately, and with Lydia busy with the Clave’s emissaries, Alec has to pick up the slack. He goes over patrol plans with his inferiors, orders the production of new Seraph blades and oversees training for some youngsters. It feels good to assume his previous role as Head of the Institute and manage those around him. It’s like spreading his wings and stepping back into a position of monitoring the running of a well-oiled machine.

Way too soon, Izzy interrupts his concentration and drags him away from his tasks. He tries to resist, but she is very insistent, and after what she’s been through, he has a hard time saying no to her.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, when they leave the Institute and head towards Central Park.

“It’s a surprise, big brother,” she replies, grinning up at him cheekily.

“You know I hate surprises,” he murmurs in response, his expression already brooding.

After a few minutes, they reach an unassuming looking building, which has a certain rundown charm to it. Only one window is illuminated and there are no people around. It looks like a club from the outside, but before Alec can make any more observations, Izzy pulls his head down and wraps a silk scarf around his eyes. His hands move up automatically to rip it away, but his sister catches them easily, her grip strong around his fingers.

“Leave it on. I told you it’s a surprise.”

Rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, he lets himself be led into the building. Thinking that this might be the bachelor party Izzy has threatened to have, he moves along with her, eventually walking down a flight of stairs. There’s soft music playing in the background, but his advanced hearing tells him there are no other people in the room they are in now.

In the end, it turns out that despite what she said, his sister hasn’t quite stopped herself from meddling. Seeing Jace walk out from behind the staircase makes Alec’s body tense up. However, he is even more surprised when for once, his brother makes the first step.

They talk for a long time, and the more the both of them explain their standing point, the clearer it gets that old wounds have already begun to heal. Alec is still somewhat pissed that Jace had thought he knew better, but the genuine apologetic tone in his voice and eyes eventually brings Alec around. There has been so much hurt between them, but despite everything, they are still brothers, still _parabatai_ , and they will always be family. 

He can see the pain in his brother’s eyes when he mentions Clary. Jace sits down on a couch, rubbing his hands across his face, sighing deeply. “I kissed her. What’s worse, I wanted her.”

Alec watches him silently, not really knowing what to say. “I was falling in love. I must be sick or something. I don’t know.”

“No,” Alec replies, shaking his head. He sits down next to his brother, putting his elbows on his knees. “You’re not sick. The situation is just… It’s confusing. And trust me, I know.” Jace looks over at him, expression open and vulnerable. It’s been a long time since they’ve really talked to one another, with each of them listening properly. He isn’t sure how much he wants to share, even now, but then the emotions just come pouring out of him. “You know, it’s like, you have this plan for your life… right, and you know what you need to do and what your responsibilities are. And you think, you know, if you follow the rules, everything’s gonna be fine. Then somebody comes along and… pushes you off that path. You just…”

“Hey,” Jace interrupts softly. “I get it.”

Alec turns his head towards him. His brother’s expression is full of sympathy. Even though they’ve never actually talked about their emotions, their feelings like that, his _parabatai_ knows exactly what Alec is referring to, can feel part of what he is feeling. “The point is, we’re Shadowhunters. Emotions get in the way. And if you get knocked off the path, you have to focus and find your way back.” He tries to say it with as much conviction as he can, but he can still see in Jace’s expression that he doesn’t quite manage.

“I mean, you still have to be true to yourself,” his brother replies carefully.

“I am.” Alec stands up, sighing. “I’m fulfilling my duty.” He takes a deep breath and turns back to Jace. “Look, would you be my _suggenes_ and give me away tomorrow?”

His brother breaks out in a smile and gets up from the sofa. “Alec, if this is what you really want… I’d be honored. I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“Me too.” Alec holds out his hand, which Jace grabs in a firm grip.

They look at each other for a moment, eventually letting go. “You know,” Jace states, “Izzy is never gonna let us live this down.”

Alec chuckles softly, carding a hand through his hair. “Nah. She’s gonna be really happy that her plan worked.”

“We could pretend we’re still mad at each other, just to mess with her,” Jace suggest, causing Alec to laugh.

“She’d kill us.”

“Probably.” The blond snickers, stretching his arms over his head. “How about we head back to the Institute. It’s pretty late, and I have a report to write.”

Something in his brother’s voice catches Alec’s attention and he looks over at him. “What happened?”

Jace hesitates briefly, casting a glance around the club. “We were attacked by a Shax demon. It killed Ragnor Fell.”

Alec gapes at him, his shoulders tensing and heartrate picking up. “Was anyone else hurt?”

His _parabatai_ shakes his head, allowing him to relax slightly. “No, but Valentine knew we were coming. There is a traitor in our midst.”

The two Shadowhunters look at each other with similar dark expressions. “This isn’t good,” Alec says quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” Jace agrees. He claps Alec on the shoulder once, giving him an encouraging smile. “But let’s deal with your wedding first. There is still enough time to find the one responsible after tomorrow.”

Alec feels uncomfortable with postponing the search for a traitor at the Institute. But perhaps it’s best to act like they don’t know anything, so as not to scare him or her into hiding. “We should at least tell Lydia.”

Something flashes across Jace’s face, but it’s gone before Alec can fully comprehend what he has seen. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Clary already went to talk to her.”

“Good.” The two of them move towards the exit, shoulders nearly brushing. “But I’m gonna talk to her about not going to Idris immediately after the wedding. She can take the Cup by herself, or give it to one of the Clave emissaries. I think it’s better if I stay behind to help with the search.”

Jace looks at him with surprise in his mismatched eyes. “You were going to Idris? What, like a honeymoon?”

Alec blushes slightly, his shoulders hunching inwards, and shrugs. His brother senses that he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he leaves it be. “Tell me what exactly happened at Ragnor’s,” Alec asks instead.

Jace launches into the story of how they had gotten into the warlock’s house, how Clary had promised him everything and how the demon had attacked before he could give them enough information on how to wake Jocelyn. “Magnus was pretty shaken. He’s known Ragnor for a long time.” Alec’s heart gives a painful jerk in his chest. “He sent Clary and me back through a portal, said he needed some time alone to grief. I feel really bad for dragging him into this. He said he’d bring all of Ragnor’s belongings back to his place. Even though we basically got his friend killed, he’s still willing to help us.”

Alec doesn’t know what to say. His heart is hammering in his chest and all he wants to do is run over to Brooklyn right away. But he knows he can’t. Partly because he thinks he’s the last person Magnus wants to talk to now, and partly because he knows he can never go back if he lets himself get close to the warlock again.

“He, um, he wasn’t hurt, though, was he?” he asks eventually, quietly enough to wonder if his brother even heard him

“Not physically, no,” Jace replies, equally quiet. There’s a look in his eyes with which he regards Alec, that makes him quickly avert his gaze. “Alec… You and Magnus- “

“Don’t,” he interrupts his _parabatai_ immediately, not wanting him to go there. This is a discussion he is tired of having, first with Izzy and now with Jace as well. “I can’t.” The last word is spoken softly, like Alec doesn’t trust his own voice not to break under the strain he is experiencing right now. He feels sorry for Magnus, but he can’t let himself go there or even think about it.

Luckily, Jace doesn’t force the issue and they make their way back to the Institute in silence. Today has been another long series of events that have taken a toll on all of the Shadowhunters, so Alec can’t wait to shower and get into bed. Before they can bid each other goodnight, though, they are ambushed by Izzy outside of Jace’s room.

“Ha!” she exclaims, skipping towards them with a smug smile on her face. “I knew it!” Before either of them can say anything, she throws her arms around both of them, crashing them all together. Jace chuckles and pats her back, while Alec can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, voice dripping with mock contempt, “you were right. No need to gloat.”

Izzy releases them from the bone-crushing hug and bares her teeth at them, mirth sparking from her eyes. “Oh, I’m so going to gloat about this. My brothers, finally reunited. And all because of me.”

Jace raises a hand to ruffle through their sister’s hair, who shrieks and tries to evade his reach. “Sure thing, sis, all because of you. Now go gloat in your room. It’s late, and after all this apologizing and forgiving, I need some sleep. Gonna write that report tomorrow, I have trouble keeping my eyes open. Besides, we have to look pretty for that wedding tomorrow.” Izzy laughs and even Alec can’t help but smirk.

“Which reminds me, we have to go over your wardrobe for tomorrow. Can’t have the groom and _suggenes_ looking like the last hobos.”

“Of course not, how scandalous,” Jace says mockingly, winking at his brother.

“We can discuss all that tomorrow, though. I’m too tired now,” Alec cuts in, making a shooing gesture at his siblings.

“You two are no fun,” Izzy says, sticking out her tongue at both of her brothers.

Under much protest, both Lightwoods slink off to their rooms, letting Alec finally close his door firmly behind him. Leaning against it, he can feel the heaviness of his limbs right down to his bones and knows that there is no point in trying to take a shower before bed. He will talk to Lydia about not going to Idris right away tomorrow. Jace had been right, all this talking has completely drained him, and the worry about Magnus still nagging at the back of his mind is also not helping.

Mechanically taking off his clothes, he crawls under the covers and closes his eyes. Thinking back on his conversation with Jace, he is glad that they have finally resolved their issues. It’s not like everything is perfect, but Alec now realizes that there is no point in wanting to be perfect, wanting his brother to be perfect, because human beings simply aren’t. Even Shadowhunters are not above flaws and he needs to accept that. The air between them also feels more comfortable now, his own confused feelings for his brother much calmer. The love he experiences now resembles the one he is feeling for Izzy or Max. Of course, the _parabatai_ bond will always make them feel more deeply for each other, but Alec is less unsure about where he stands with Jace. It’s like his eyes had been unfocused for a long time, with his brother being the only sharp focal point in his life. After meeting Magnus, and after the big fight with Jace, everything has been moved into a new perspective, shining a light on things Alec had buried deep inside of him. Coming to terms with his sexuality will still take time, but he is praying to the Angel that despite his complaining heart, his mind will accept his decision eventually.

 

///

 

A loud knock at his door wakes Alec the next day. Blinking his eyes open slowly, he moves to sit up just as his door opens. Izzy strides in, her hair down and face devoid of makeup, but a cheery smile on her lips.

“Rise and shine, brother dearest!” she exclaims, heading to his window to draw open the curtains. Bright sunlight floods his room and Alec has to raise a hand to shield his eyes against the blazing ray. “Come on, get up. It’s your wedding day!”

His sister is eerily happy, too much even for her, and he narrows his eyes at her suspiciously. “What’s with you this morning?”

“It’s past twelve, Alec. I let you sleep in,” she replies, ignoring his question. Alec gapes at her. He never sleeps this long, usually waking early with the sun, even after a long night of demon hunting.

“Why did you let me sleep that long?” he asks, quickly throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed.

“I thought you might need it. And besides, the fact that you even slept until now just proves I was right.”

There is no arguing with her, especially not when his head still feels slightly fuzzy from sleep. Izzy steers him towards his bathroom, her hands already yanking at the shirt he’s slept in. “Go take a shower and then we’ll have to go over the ceremony for today. Jace is already deciding on outfits, and I didn’t think you’d mind, what with your lack of fashion sense.”

“Thanks,” Alec huffs out sarcastically, pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. When he moves to open his buckle, he notices Izzy is still standing in the doorframe, eyes trained on him. “Um, are you just gonna stand there and watch?”

His sister rolls her eyes in an overly dramatic fashion. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, big brother. But I’ll leave you to your morning routine.” She winks at him and collects his discarded shirt from the floor. Just as he’s about to close the door in her face, she adds: “By the way, Mom and Dad arrived hours ago and you owe me for keeping them away from you until now!”

When he rips the door back open, his sister is already dashing across his room and out of sight before he can say anything. Deciding that it’s not worth chasing after her now, he gets into the shower and quickly washes his hair and body. His skin looks pale, the dark runes across his chest and arms standing out harshly. Trying to keep his mind from going anywhere in particular, he finishes his shower, drying himself off quickly, and moves in front of his mirror to get out his razor. His hand is steady when he lathers up his face and moves the blade across his chin and cheeks. Despite the sleep he has gotten tonight, there are circles under his eyes, making him look more tired than he feels. Although he is well-rested, there is a part of him that feels exhausted, almost numb. He just hopes that after the wedding tonight, things will slowly go back to normal. As soon as his family’s name is restored, he needs to shoulder his responsibilities again and step up as the leader he was raised to be.

Finishing up in the bathroom, he throws on a light shirt and track pants, and makes his way to his brother’s room. Jace is standing in front of his bed, looking down at several jackets spread out before him. He raises his head when Alec comes in and waves him closer.

“I’m not sure if I should go for the gold jacket or just the gold vest,” his brother says in a way of greeting. Looking down at the clothes, Alec feels a weird sensation creep up his spine.

“I thought this was my wedding.”

Jace chuckles and points towards a hanger on his closet. “That’s your outfit right there. Already approved for by Izzy and Lydia. And me.” Taking a closer look at his own clothes, Alec notices the soft-looking white jacket, pressed black pants and crisp white shirt. A black bow tie gives the whole outfit its finishing touches. Stroking a hand over the soft material, he has to swallow around the lump slowly forming in his throat. This is actually happening, today, now.

“You okay, buddy?” Jace asks when Alec remains silent. His voice sounds oddly distant, like trying to listen with cotton stuffed in one’s ears.

“Yeah,” he croaks eventually, turning back to his brother. Jace seems unconvinced, his eyes narrowing and brows drawing together. “Take the gold vest.”

His _parabatai_ ’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks down at the clothes on his bed. “No stealing your big moment, huh?” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“No, this isn’t about me. But you shouldn’t steal Lydia’s big moment. Someone once told me a wedding is supposed to be all about the bride,” Alec replies.

“I think it should be all about the couple.” Alec doesn’t comment on his brother’s careful answer and only looks at him silently. After a moment, Jace shrugs and picks up the vest from his bed. “The gold one it is, then. The groom has spoken.”

Both men look up when the bedroom door opens and the other three Lightwoods walk in. Alec hasn’t seen his parents since they had left of Idris on order of the Clave and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about them now. The last time he had talked to his father, they had fought about his parents’ involvement in the Circle, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to say anything to his mother. Looking at them now, with all that has happened since, a weird sort of calm starts spreading through his body.

“Alec,” Maryse says, her voice as serious as ever. She moves forward to kiss him on the cheek, followed by a handshake from his father.

“Mom. Dad.”

There is an awkward silence, neither Lightwood knowing what to say. “How is Max?” Alec blurts out eventually, trying to defuse the weird tension in the room.

“He is well,” his mother replies. “Furious that he had to stay in Idris, but it’s for the best. He sends his regards. You will see him in a few days, I’m sure.”

“He’s gonna be so pissed that he’s missing his big brother’s wedding,” Jace says, garnering a stern look from his adopted mother.

“He’s not pleased, no, but he will understand,” Robert cuts in. “We have something for you.” He pulls something out of his pocket and moves towards his oldest son. Holding out his hand, he puts a delicate-looking necklace in Alec’s outstretched one. “This belonged to your grandmother. It was a gift from my father to her on their wedding day. We thought you could give this to Lydia as a token during the ceremony.”

Alec stares down at the gold necklace in his hand. It carries a large, sparkling pendant, which lies heavily on his palm. It’s beautiful and the perfect token for Lydia. Shadowhunter weddings, as Alec knows, always contain a moment in which the two families gift each other with a gold token, a sign of commitment and respect. It is custom for the bride to receive a necklace and the groom to receive a bracelet. Next to the wedded union rune, the tokens are meant to bind the couple and their families together forever.

“Th-thank you,” Alec stammers eventually, handing the necklace over to Jace. As his _suggenes_ , it’s his responsibility to keep Alec’s token secure until the actual ceremony. “I’m sure Lydia will like it.”

“We’ve also spoken with Lydia’s parents”, Maryse says, her children’s eyes all trained on her stern face. “They are, unfortunately, otherwise engaged in Idris and will not make it in time for the wedding. But they’re looking forward to housing the two of you during your stay in Alicante.”

Thinking about Lydia’s parents makes Alec realize that he hasn’t even met them or any other member of her family. He knows some distant cousins will be at the ceremony tonight, but Lydia doesn’t have any siblings or other close relatives that are still alive. He vows to make her feel even more at home with his own family, though he doubts that she is too broken up about the lack of family support.

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur to Alec. The weird feeling that started in Jace’s room earlier doesn’t really go away, it rather intensifies the closer they get to dusk. It’s like he’s moving through water, everything at once slowed down and sped up. They discuss the ceremony, talk to the Silent Brother and eventually disperse to get ready for the wedding. There is a certain numbness in his chest when he gets to his own room, slowly putting on his outfit. Izzy has really outdone herself, the shirt, pants and jacket all tailored perfectly.

He is just standing in front of his mirror, trying to tie his bow tie, when there is a soft knock on his door. “Come in.”

Izzy pokes her head in, dark hair styled in sweeping waves, framing her beautiful face. Her dark-red lipstick stands out, making her appear paler yet more elegant than the lighter one she usually wears. When she steps into his room, followed by Jace, he sees them both in their festive outfits for the first time. Izzy is dressed in a long, golden dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. Jace is also dressed to kill, standing tall and straight in his shimmering blue-green suit and golden vest. His hair is slicked back and he looks Alec up and down with a smirk.

“Looking good, buddy,” he says, eyes falling to the bow tie in his hands. “You need some help with that?”

Both his siblings move closer, Jace quickly helping him tie the garment around his neck. Izzy pulls his chin down to her level and runs her fingers through his unstyled hair. Ruffling it this way and that for a moment, she gives his appearance the last finishing touches. They both eye him up appreciatively, Izzy eventually planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “You look great, Alec.”

He tries to give them his best smile, still feeling a little numb inside. At the same time, his heart is hammering away in his chest and his hands feel cold. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more nervous in his life; not even facing off against an overload of demons can compare to the level of panic that is looming at the back of his mind right now.

“Thank you,” Alec says, bowing his head slightly, trying to appear calm and collected. “For everything. For being here with me, now, and for… for…” His voice breaks off and he tries to swallow back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He has to hang in there for just a while longer.

“It’s okay, big brother,” Izzy replies quietly, squeezing his hand. Jace also lays his palm on his _parabatai_ ’s shoulder and grips him tightly, reassuringly. They three Lightwoods stand there, in the middle of Alec’s room, and simply breathe together like they have always done before a big battle since they were children.

“Let’s get this party on the road, shall we?” Jace says eventually, giving the other one of his bright, reassuring smiles.

 

///

 

The chapel looks beautiful, decorated with white flowers and sparkling chandeliers, and the attending Shadowhunters are all dressed to the nine. Izzy has gone off to be with Lydia, who Alec, as is tradition, hasn’t seen since yesterday, while he and Jace take their place on the dais. His parents are in the front row, watching both of them proudly, but Alec has a hard time focusing on anything but his wildly beating heart. He feels slightly dizzy and a little sick, but puts it down to nervousness over tying the knot. He can’t wait for this day to be over, with some of the pressure hopefully finally being lifted off his shoulders.

When the ceremony begins, the numbness spreads through Alec’s whole body, making it hard to focus on the Silent Brother’s words. Like on autopilot, he watches first his sister and then Lydia walk down the aisle, though part of him recognizes her radiant beauty in the sparkly white wedding dress. She looks happy and he tries to give her a reassuring smile. This is not just his life hanging in the balance, after all, but hers as well.

When Lydia touches her stele to the rune stone and draws the wedded union mark from its depth, Alec mechanically raises his arm towards her, barring his wrist. The limb feels like its weighing a ton, and he trembles slightly. This is it, this is the last moment to change his mind. But he is frozen on the spot, heart galloping away in his chest.

Just as Lydia is about to touch the stele to his skin, the loud noise of a door falling closed makes them all look up. Alec turns his head towards the entrance and suddenly he’s there. Magnus. At his wedding.

The warlock stops in his tracks, dark-rimmed eyes focused solely on Alec on the dais, and Alec can’t look away. His heart, which has skipped a beat when Magnus had walked in, picks up twice as fast as before, making him feel even more lightheaded. The warlock is dressed in a dark velvet coat, suit pants and has red-pinkish highlights in his black hair. Where his world had been moving erratically faster before, it seems to come to a standstill now. Alec stares at Magnus, seeing nothing but him, the blood rushing through his head, ears ringing. The world seems distant, everything else forgotten but the man standing at the end of the aisle, having eyes for no one but him. From the periphery of his vision, Alec sees his mother get up from her seat and rush towards Magnus, but he can’t focus on the words they exchange. He hears whispering behind him and a murmur going through the crowd, but he still can’t formulate a clear thought in his head. Everything is slightly fuzzy, the air from his lungs coming out faster and faster. He has a hard time catching his breath, chest heaving underneath his white shirt.

“You gonna be okay, buddy?”

He can’t reply to Jace’s question and only manages to tear his gaze away from Magnus when Lydia tries to catch his eye. “Alec?” He looks at her, still breathing heavily. “Hey.” She chuckles nervously, giving him a bright, reassuring smile.

“It’s, uh, I… I can’t breathe,” he gasps, swaying slightly on his feet. His mind is spinning and Lydia’s face goes in and out of focus.

“I know,” she says quietly, still smiling. “It’s okay.”

He tries to pull himself together, and looks into her eyes. They are blue, open and honest, full of sympathy and understanding. Alec thinks how pretty she looks, but how it hadn’t taken his breath away when she had walked in. There is a war raging in his heart, feelings he thought he had buried deep down clawing their way back up again, threatening to overrun the fragile wall he has built around his soul. He is back on the precipice, the wind tearing at his clothes and hair, threatening to pull him down into the unknown. His whole system seems to go into overdrive, until a voice suddenly whispers inside him.

_I will not ask again._

Magnus. He had said that he wouldn’t ask again. When Alec had made his decision, he had thought that was the end of their relationship, if one can even call it that. And yet here he is, at Alec’s wedding, waiting at the end of the aisle for a decision he thinks the Shadowhunter has already made. Despite the apparent fear of rejection, Magnus has still come here today to give himself, give Alec, give _them_ , one last chance. And Alec can’t do it again, can’t push the warlock away once more.

The thought suddenly halts all the noises in his head. It’s like breaking through the surface of the ocean after almost drowning in it, and sucking in the first lungful of air. It’s both terrifying and freeing, and Alec suddenly knows what to do.

“I can’t do this.” Lydia’s face falls, but Alec keeps going. “I thought we were doing the right thing, but… this isn’t it.”

She looks at him with those big blue eyes, full of admiration and perhaps even relief. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Lydia, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” she replies, putting her hand to his cheek, “you deserve to be happy. Okay? I’ll be fine.” She squeezes his shoulder in sympathy.

Alec inhales deeply and turns towards the congregation. All eyes are on him, but he can only look at Magnus. The warlock is still waiting, his face a mask poorly disguising the raging emotions of uncertainty and hope. It’s like someone has taken a blindfold off Alec’s eyes, making him realize that his siblings and Magnus had been right all along: his happiness is important and he can no longer deny who he is or who he has feelings for. All the years of repressing his love for Jace, of trying to keep his emotions in check, of always following orders and never taking anything for himself are still at the back of his mind, but he can’t listen to them anymore. It’s time to be his own man and to make his own decisions, based on what he thinks is good for himself. He will never stop trying to save the people in his life he cares about, never stop trying to take the responsibility from them if he can. But he has to let go of the conviction that being a good son, a good soldier, a good leader means denying himself everything, even denying who he is.

The chapel is dead silent and it feels like everyone is waiting for his next decision in tensed expectation. Magnus’ dark eyes bore into his own, an apprehensive expression flickering across his face. Then Alec steps down from the dais and walks towards the warlock with sure stride. He dismisses his mother with a simple “Enough!” when she rushes forward, his eyes focused on Magnus and Magnus alone. Forgetting everything around them, he grabs the warlock by his lapels, pulls him close and crashes their lips together. The residual numbness in his body explodes into a shower of colors, almost blinding Alec behind the closed lids of his eyes when their mouths touch. He is tumbling down the precipice, but suddenly there are wings spreading from his back, carrying him high, higher, up into the blazing sun. Heat races through his body when Magnus reciprocates the kiss, their mouths moving against each other with force. The warlock’s lips are soft yet demanding against Alec’s own, moving with him in a swirl of warmth and passion. His lips cover Magnus’ for a moment, and he feels the tip of a tongue graze against them briefly. Pulling back slightly, he feels a delighted shiver chase down his spine at the warlock’s hungry mouth trying to follow him immediately. He stares into Magnus’ eyes, pupils dilated to swallow the whole of his iris, then delves in for more. Their mouths once again meet with bruising force, both giving as good as they’re getting. Magnus’ hands are on his waist, fingers digging into the hard flesh there, holding the Shadowhunter as close as possible. Alec’s grip on the warlock’s lapels is still as tight as before, not wanting them to part even an inch.

The kiss feels both like an eternity as well as mere seconds. Both of them are pressed together from chest to hip, holding on for dear life. As first kisses go, this is probably one of the best. Alec has no experience whatsoever, but it’s easy to follow Magnus’ lead, moving his head this way and that. Eventually, reality comes back to him, and their kiss slows down. Pulling away from the warlock reluctantly, he slowly blinks his eyes open, feeling both lightheaded as well as strong enough to rip out trees with his bare hands. He takes in a deep breath, heart still pounding in his chest, yet somehow calmer than before.

“You never cease to amaze me, Alec,” Magnus says softly, his exhalation tickling over Alec’s heated face.

“Yeah,” he replies, letting out the breath he’s been holding. “What did I just do?” It’s like he suddenly realizes for the first time where they are. His gaze travels over the attending guests to the shocked faces of his parents at the foot of the dais. Dropping his hands from Magnus’ lapels, but not moving away from him, he holds his mother’s deadly glare. After a moment, she storms off, his father at her heels, while everyone else shifts around uncomfortably. He can feel one of Magnus’ hand at his waist, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Izzy rushes towards them, a huge, happy grin on her face. “Alec, I am _so_ proud of you!” she says and he can’t help but return her smile.

Simon joins them soon after, babbling on and on about some kind of graduate, and Alec has a hard time following. “Who invited the vampire?”

Magnus suppresses a chuckle next to him and drops his hand. Izzy raises an eyebrow, while Simon looks at them with disappointment. “Seriously? I totally rooted for you, man.”

Izzy snickers and even Magnus breaks out in a big smile at that. “I hate to tell you this, Alexander, but his description is pretty much spot on. It really is a fantastic movie. We should watch it some time.”

“You can do that for your first date,” Isabelle cuts in, exchanging a sly smirk with the warlock.

Alec blushes slightly, narrowing his eyes at his sister. He’s barely made the decision to give the relationship with Magnus a chance, and here she is, already making plans for the two of them. He hasn’t even had time to wrap his head around the fact that he just kissed a man, a warlock, in front of the entire wedding assembly, including well-respected members of the Clave.

Looking around, Alec can see some people have already left, while the remaining whisper amongst each other. He notices more than one furrowed brow and even a few looks of disgust. Hunching his shoulders slightly, he swallows and averts his gaze. He can see Magnus looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and the warlock moves a little closer, fingers grazing softly against his own where they hang loosely by his side.

Giving him a grateful smile, he tries to pay attention to Izzy and Simon, who have gone on to recount, in great detail, what they thought during Alec’s, according to the vampire, “epic confession of love”, one which will “go down in history as the best coming out ever”. The Shadowhunter just rolls his eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the attention. But then again, he could have chosen a more private spot to kiss Magnus and announce to the world that he liked men.

“I’ll be right back,” Magnus murmurs, giving Alec’s fingers a squeeze and moving towards Jace, who is talking to Clary on the dais. Alec keeps his eye on the three of them, ignoring his sister and the redhead’s friend completely. After a moment, Magnus beckons him over with a flick of his hand.

“I think something’s wrong,” he says, looking down at Izzy. His sister follows his line of sight and nods in understanding.

“I’ll take care of the guests. You go deal with whatever that is about.”

Patting her shoulder in thanks, he moves towards the dais.

“Is there a place we won’t be disturbed for a while?” Magnus asks, just as Alec comes to stand next to him on the steps.

Jace indicates for the other three to follow him and they make their way out of the chapel and to the ops center. Alec takes off his jacket, feeling suddenly way too overdressed, and discards it on the nearest bench in one of the corridors. A thought suddenly pops into his head and he quickly catches up to his brother. “Did you see Lydia leave the wedding?” He feels slightly ashamed that he hasn’t even looked for her after kissing Magnus, but his brother is already nodding.

“Don’t worry about it. She was happy for the two of you. And I told her she still has a place at the Institute if she wants it. I think she’s just returning the Cup to Idris. She’ll be fine,” Jace adds the last bit at the worried expression on Alec’s face. Letting out a breath, he nods carefully, casting a glance over his shoulder at Magnus.

“Magnus, what’s going on? Have you found anything? This is about my mother, right?” Clary suddenly pipes up, pulling up her dress so as not to trip over the hem.

“I have looked through everything Ragnor owns and have narrowed down the list of possible items significantly,” the warlock replies when they reach the ops center. They walk up the steps to a secluded area and Magnus conjures each of the items onto a nearby table.

The three Shadowhunters go through them, but due to her stay in the alternate dimension, Clary quickly realizes that only the bookmark can tell them the truth. That Camille is once again involved is unfortunate, but at least it’s their first solid lead in a while. When Jace rushes off, the Clary hesitates for a moment, looking over to the other two, but eventually goes to follow him, leaving Alec and Magnus alone at last.

Pacing back and forth, he exhales heavily. “I’m so glad we got away from that crowd and all those people. It was so intense.” Gesturing his hands widely, he feels slightly awkward being alone with Magnus after the kiss they shared. He can still feel his lips tingle at the thought of it, but the disgusted faces of some attending guests are also burned into his mind.

“I have to hand it to you, Alexander,” the warlock says, moving into his personal space without abandon, a huge smile on his face, “you certainly know how to make a statement.”

Alec grins, but approaching footsteps draw his attention away from Magnus. His stomach drops when he sees his parents walk towards them, his mother’s expression thunderous to say the least. Magnus steps away, giving them some privacy, while Alec swallows and faces his parents.

“What have you done, Alec?” Maryse spits out, her eyes wide. “To us? This family?”

“This isn’t about you,” he replies, glad that his voice sounds surer than he feels.

“Of course it is. You are either being selfish or naive. This wedding was your plan from the start, and now you have humiliated us in front of the most respected members of the Clave.” Alec wants to tell her to shut up, that he might have proposed to Lydia, but it had been his parents great plan for him to marry in order to restore the Lightwood name. He is tired of letting her blame him for everything and let him carry the burden of all the responsibility instead of owning up to her own mistakes. He looks over at his father, who has his arms crossed over his chest, his face an unreadable mask of carefully contained calm. He’s not seconding his wife’s accusations, but he is also not rushing to his son’s defense. “I don’t even recognize you anymore,” Maryse goes on.

Alec flexes his hands, shoulders tense. “I’m the same person I’ve always been. Now everything is just out in the open.” It takes more out of him to finally say those words than he thought it would, but he’s glad he finally can. He has lived in denial for so long, buried his feelings deep down so as not to cause any harm to his reputation and that of his family. But now he has finally made the step of accepting what and who he is, showing his feelings openly for the first time in 23 years. He’s denied his true self long enough, denied himself to feel what he feels and love who he loves, and he won’t go back from there.

Maryse’s eyes are brimming with angry tears and her gaze moves past Alec to Magnus, who is standing quietly behind the young Shadowhunter. “And all for a Downworlder.”

Alec stares at her, shocked into silence. He knows his parents, and especially his mother, are not huge fans of Downworlders in general, and that they rather prefer to keep themselves separate. But he’s never actually heard this much contempt in his mother’s voice. He bristles at her burning glance directed at Magnus and has a hard time staying where he is. Part of him wants to move in front of her, to shield the warlock from such a poisonous look.

But Maryse only huffs, turning on her heels, and marching away. Robert moves forward, raising a hand to Alec’s chest as if to stop him chasing after her. “Just give her time.” He turns his head to look after his wife.

Alec exhales deeply and turns his attention to his father. “And you?” Part of him is scared what he might say. Robert and he have always had a difficult relationship, Alec being much too focused on always trying to please his parents and Robert mostly spending his time doting on Izzy. They have never spent much time together, and don’t really know each other that well. His father is a traditional man, strong yet quiet, much like Alec himself. In some ways, they are much more alike than they think, similar to Isabelle and Maryse.

Robert looks him over for a moment and shrugs. “I don’t really understand this. But I suppose our world is changing,” he says, looking over at Magnus. “How long has this been going on? Are you two… in love?”

A blush creeps up Alec’s neck and his heart skips a beat. Leave it to his father to embarrass him like that in front of the first guy, the first _person_ , he’s ever kissed. “Love?” he scoffs, trying to play it cool. “What? No. No, it’s… it’s, uh, it’s sort of different… It’s not- “

His stammering is interrupted by Magnus, who moves in to save him from making a complete fool of himself. “It’s all very new,” he tells Robert quickly, trying to sound reassuring.

His father raises an eyebrow and looks unconvinced. “Right.” Sighing, he puts a hand to Alec’s arm and gives him a firm pat. “I better go check on Mom.”

Robert leaves the two in the ops center and Alec sighs. He feels somewhat unsure again, thinking that he perhaps hadn’t considered all the consequences before hopping down from the dais and passionately kissing Magnus, a Downworlder no less, in front of everyone.

Apparently sensing his mounting doubt, the warlock suddenly says: “You know what I just realized? We still haven’t gone on our first date yet.”

Alec looks over at him, his eyes travelling from the red highlights in the other man’s hair down to his soft looking lips. He wants nothing more than to press their mouths together again and rid himself of those doubting thoughts in his head.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, giving Magnus a small smile. His fingers play with the cufflinks of his shirt nervously. “You want to… I don’t know, get a drink sometime?” It’s not like they haven’t had their fair share of drinks in the past, but Alec is still very new to this whole dating business.

“I would love that,” Magnus replies, smiling up at him softly.

“Great.” They stay quiet for a bit, the warlock obviously waiting for Alec to make the next move. Looking over at him, his eyes are once more drawn to the other man’s lips. He licks his own surreptitiously, heartrate picking up when Magnus’ eyes follow the movement. Fighting against the instinct to cast a glance around, he moves closer, head dipping down carefully.

“Can I, um, can I kiss you again?” Alec asks quietly, unsure of what the protocol is now. He’s never kissed anyone before, let alone a second time. And now that he thinks about it, he had been quite forceful with Magnus earlier, simply pulling him in by the lapels and crashing their mouths together like that.

“Oh, Alexander, you can kiss me any time you want,” the warlock purrs, quickly closing the gap between their faces. His hands move back to their earlier position on Alec’s waist, while the Shadowhunter flails his own helplessly, before placing them carefully on Magnus’ shoulders.

This kiss feels different, somewhat less forceful and more exploratory. Alec’s heart pounds loudly in his ears and each brush of their lips makes his skin break out in goosebumps. He tingles all over, the heady feeling of Magnus so close to him making his heart soar. When he feels the tip of a tongue against the closed seam of his mouth, he can’t suppress a quiet gasp. The warlock takes that as invitation to delve in, deepening the kiss. Alec’s knees go weak at the first touch of their tongues, his stomach clenching deliciously. All blood rushes South and his head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.

Magnus’ mouth moves from his, kissing along his jawline, down his neck. Alec pants, the warlock’s hot breath across his throat sending down shivers of excitement and arousal. With a firm press of his lips to the deflect rune, Magnus pulls away again. “I think that’s quite enough PDA for one day, don’t you think?”  he asks quietly, voice husky and low.

Alec gulps down a breath of air and stares at the man in his arms with incomprehension. “Huh?” he asks lamely.

Magnus chuckles lightly, giving Alec’s waist a firm squeeze. “Public Display of Affection, Alexander.”

“Ah, right.” Alec’s voice sounds hoarse to his own ears. “I don’t mind.”

Magnus stares at him for a moment and then starts laughing. The happy sound makes Alec’s heart feel that much lighter, and he vows to himself that if it’s in his power, he will try to make the warlock laugh like that for as long as he is wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty shattered after this chapter, it took me a couple of tries to get it right. I hope it all makes sense. There were a bunch of missing moments, especially with regard to the wedding, that I tried to include in this chapter. There are a few more we never got to see, but hang in there, I still have something special planned. 
> 
> Only one more day (well, two for me) until 2x11!!! *throws confetti*
> 
> Come say hello at my tumblr, light-in-the-wood. xxx


	10. Morning Star and Rising Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end of season 1! Can’t believe I wrote over 60k words of missing scenes (well, and a few from the show). I’m so glad I made it before the summer premiere tonight. You will probably notice another slight change to an actual scene from the   
> episode, but I hope it makes sense at the end. 
> 
> Thanks for all the amazing comments and kudos so far, it really makes my day to read what you guys have to say! :D
> 
> So lastly, I wish all of you happy reading. Enjoy the chapter and, of course, THE NEW EPISODE TONIGHT! *throws confetti* Well, tomorrow for me (seriously though, thank God for Netflix!).

Alec stays close to Magnus for a little while longer, knowing full well that he will have to go back to do some damage control soon enough. He also really needs to talk to Lydia and thank her for being so understanding. It can’t have been easy being left standing at the altar like that. Magnus waits patiently beside him, giving Alec enough time to think. When he looks over, the warlock’s dark eyes are trained on his face, their intense heat making Alec feel warm all over.

“I, um, I meant to thank you,” he says finally.

Magnus raises a delicate eyebrow in question. “What for?”

“For giving me a second chance. For coming here.”

The other man smiles, warm and radiant, and he puts a hand to Alec’s cheek. “You’re welcome. But you deserve some credit as well. I didn’t expect you to jump down from that dais and kissing me in front of everyone. I have to hand it to you, Alexander, you continue to surprise me.”

Alec can’t help but return the smile, his lips quirking up. “Why did you come back though?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

Magnus drops his hand and lowers his gaze to his shoes, crossing his arms over his chest. Alec thinks he is not going to answer, but after a few seconds of silence, he simply says: “A friend reminded me that I should fight for what I want. And that one day, someone will tear down the walls I have built around my heart. I think you are that someone.”

A blush spreads over the young Shadowhunter’s cheeks, but he feels grateful at the same time. “I guess I should thank that friend, then,” he replies, chuckling nervously.

A dark expression flickers over Magnus’ face and suddenly he looks sad. “That won’t be possible anymore, unfortunately.”

Alec’s brows draw together and he tries to catch the warlock’s eye. “What do you mean?”

The other man sighs deeply, turning away from him, arms still crossed over his chest. “I’m sure you heard about what happened during our trip to London.”

Suddenly it dawns on Alec that Magnus seems to be talking about Ragnor, the warlock that had cast the spell on Jocelyn and was killed by a demon the other day. He remembers Jace telling him about the attack and how devastated Magnus had been. He feels somewhat ashamed that he hasn’t thought about offering his condolences so far, completely caught up in his own drama. “I’m very sorry for what happened, Magnus.”

The warlock looks over his shoulder at him, an almost unbearable grief shining in those dark eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still,” Alec replies, stepping closer again and carefully putting his hands on the other man’s shoulders, squeezing lightly, “he was your friend and I’m sorry for your loss.”

Magnus watches him, a slight upward curl at the corner of his lips. Then he pats Alec’s chest gently, right over his heart. “Thank you.” And somehow that’s all they need to say, those simple words of condolences enough to offer at least a little bit of comfort.

Eventually, they draw apart again and Alec raises his hands to get rid of the bow tie adorning his neck. He’s still in most of his wedding outfit, but it feels inappropriate to wear it now. Dropping the garment on the nearby table, he immediately feels better.

“I should probably go looking for Lydia,” he says to Magnus, indicating a hand towards the main hall of the Institute. “And talk to my parents, I guess.” He really doesn’t want to, but the longer he avoids them now, the harder it’s going to get in the long run.

Magnus’ eyes go wide, but he nods in understanding. “Do you want me there as well?”

Alec is touched by the warlock’s offer, but quickly goes to shake his head. “I think it’s better if I do it alone.” He doesn’t tell him that it’s mostly because he doesn’t want his mother spewing any more bile and nasty looks in Magnus’ direction. “Why don’t you wait by the office? I’ll meet you there in a bit?”

The warlock agrees readily and strolls off towards the corridors. Alec watches him go for a moment, before giving his head a shake and making his way to the nearest Shadowhunter working at one of the computer screens. He asks several people if they have seen Lydia, but everyone tells him no. Getting slightly worried, he spots his mother in front of a monitor in the ops center, fingers moving rapidly over a tablet. She doesn’t look up when he gets closer, deliberately giving him the cold shoulder.

“Have you spoken with Lydia?” he asks carefully, trying to go for normality. “No one’s seen here since the wedding.” She ignores him, making him clasp his hands behind his back, shoulders dropping subconsciously. “Mom, come on.”

“Maryse,” his father admonishes, joining them unexpectedly. She is still not looking at either of them, eyes resolutely focused on the screen in front of her.

“Mom,” Alec tries again, voice wavering slightly, “I understand you’re upset, but this is- “

“Calling off the wedding would have been one thing,” she interrupts him, putting the tablet down with force, “but kissing that warlock in front of the entire Institute? You’ve embarrassed all of us.”

Alec swallows against the forming lump in his throat, but doesn’t avert his gaze from her stern look. “Why? Because he’s a guy?” He knows relationships by members of the same sex are not technically out-lawed in Shadowhunter society, but they are basically hushed up into virtual non-existence. People simply don’t come out or tell anyone about what they get up to behind closed doors.

“No,” Maryse counters, surprising her son for a brief moment. “The fact that he is a guy, as you say, is the least of my worries.”

Alec stares at her, completely dumbfounded. He looks over at his father, thinking that maybe he must have heard wrong. After her crass reaction at the wedding, he had thought his family might disown him. But if Magnus’ gender isn’t the issue, then… “Then what’s the problem?” he asks carefully, brows furrowed.

“That you chose _Magnus Bane_.”

“His reputation precedes him,” his father cuts in, drawing Alec’s attention. “And even for a warlock, he’s a bit of a lothario. Alec, there’s so much that you don’t know about him.”

For some reason, Alec doubts that Magnus’ supposedly many past relationships are the real issue here. Granted, he knows the warlock is flirty and doesn’t shy away from making his interest known, using all powers at his disposal, including his looks, but it’s not like he throws himself at everything and everyone that moves and breathes. He feels slightly offended on Magnus’ behalf and can’t help the gruffness in his voice. “Well, then I plan to get to know him. And if you have a problem with that, then I suggest you deal with it.” His parents both turn away, so as not to show their anger too openly. Alec can’t remember ever having talked to any of them like that before, but somehow it feels good to finally speak his mind. “Now, I have to go find Lydia.”

His mother examines him with a stern look. “She’s probably packing for Idris in your father’s office. What she did- “

“Saved my life,” Alec states firmly. And it’s true. If she hadn’t encouraged him at the wedding, if she hadn’t been as open and honest with him before this whole affair, he isn’t sure what would have happened. “So I should go thank her.”

He turns on his heels, not giving his parents another chance trying to berate him for what he’s done. When he walks around the corner into the corridor, he finds Magnus pacing back and forth across the wooden floor. Judging by the tension in his shoulders, part of him also seems to worry about the consequences following their kiss.

Sighing, he leans against the wall across from the warlock, who looks over at him with a sympathetic expression. “On a scale of one to ten… how unpleasant was it?”

“Off the charts,” Alec replies, an ironic smirk on his lips. “Yeah, I’ve never seen them so angry.”

“Just give them some time,” Magnus suggests reassuringly.

Alec can’t help but roll his eyes, moving in the direction of his parents’ office. “You’re immortal. Time is on your side.” Magnus chuckles quietly, easily falling into step with him. “After what I did… I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me.” He doesn’t tell Magnus about the fact that it isn’t necessarily his gender his parents object to, but rather his status as a Downworlder.

“Don’t underestimate a parent’s love,” the warlock replies. Alec suppresses a snort, not wanting to open that particular can of worms. “You don’t regret it, do you?” The sudden uncertainty in Magnus’ voice halts Alec in his tracks.

He turns around to face him, eyes wide. He hasn’t really had time to actually sit down and think about any of it yet, let alone think about them. Sighing, he says: “Everything happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think.” It’s not the answer Magnus wants to hear, he can see it in the look of his eyes. “I just want to make sure Lydia’s okay. I owe her so much.”

“ _We_ owe her,” the warlock replies quietly. “What she did was nothing short of heroic.” Alec remains silent, unsure of what to say now. “Hey, look,” Magnus goes on, making the Shadowhunter look up again, “maybe we can slow things down? Why don’t we start with that date you owe me?”

Although he doesn’t want to slow whatever this is between them down completely, he has to agree that perhaps it’s best to take a deep breath and make one step at a time. Alec’s huge declaration at the wedding had been a touch dramatic, perhaps, already putting a huge amount of pressure on both of them. This is his first ever relationship, so baby steps seem more appropriate. He doesn’t want to mess this up, after all. Especially considering the struggle he, and Magnus, too, have gone through to get here. “Yeah, let’s do that,” he replies, smiling slowly.

The warlock returns it, mentioning a great Ethiopian restaurant they could go to, while Alec moves to open the door. Almost immediately, his eyes are drawn to a figure on the ground and his heart skips a beat at the realization of who it is.

“Lydia!” he calls out, rushing forward and dropping to his knees beside to her. She’s unconscious, lying on the remains of the wooden couch table. Magnus is right there, taking her pulse, giving him a curt nod. Adrenaline spiking through his body, he takes her right arm and pulls up the sleeve of her jacket. Drawing his stele from the pockets of his pants, he quickly activates the _iratze_ on the inner side of her forearm. “Go get help,” he tells Magnus, who springs to his feet and races from the room immediately.

Lydia is waking slowly, and Alec quickly reassures her when her unfocused eyes seek him out. “You’re gonna be okay.”

She is murmuring, trying to tell him something, so he leans closer to understand. “Hodge.”

The blood freezes in his veins. “What? Was he attacked, too?” He casts a glance around the room, noticing the office is otherwise intact. However, his father’s safe, which has kept the Cup secure so far, stands wide open, the Mortal Instrument nowhere to be seen. “Lydia, what happened?”

The healing rune is only slowly taking effect, so he helps her sit up. She leans against him, still weak and slightly shaken. “Hodge took it.” Lydia’s voice is hoarse and Alec can’t wait any longer. He puts his arms under her knees and behind her back, and lifts her easily from the ground. When he moves towards the door, Magnus comes rushing back in, followed by Jace, Clary and Izzy.

“What happened?” his sister immediately exclaims, taking in the room and Lydia in Alec’s arms with a sweeping look.

“She was attacked,” he simply states, brushing past them to get to the corridor. “Jace, Izzy, take a look at the security footage and find out who did this. Lydia mentioned Hodge’s name, but I’m not sure what she was talking about.”

His siblings nod in understanding and he marches off towards the infirmary, Magnus on his heels. Putting Lydia gently down on one of the beds, the warlock immediately goes to work, blue magic sparking from the tips of his ringed fingers.

Alec watches him for a moment, heart pounding against his ribs. This is all his fault. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with the aftermath of his wedding, he would have noticed something was wrong. He would have noticed that Lydia had been missing and maybe checked on her sooner. “Is she gonna be okay?” he asks quietly, guilt twisting his stomach into knots.

Magnus looks over at him, eyes burning with magic. “I’m sure, don’t worry.” Alec cards a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, brows drawn together. “Alexander, this isn’t your fault. Go figure out what happened, I’ll take care of Lydia.”

Part of him wants to tell the warlock no, that he should stay with her, but he’s no use for her here and better served finding out who did this. Nodding curtly, he turns to leave, only to turn back once more at the door. “Thank you, Magnus.” The warlock smiles in response, then returns his attention to the task at hand. Alec braces himself and swiftly makes his way towards the ops center.

 

///

 

After it becomes clear that Hodge is in fact working for Valentine, they all feel betrayed. Alec can sense his brother’s intense frustration and anger through their _parabatai_ bond and has a hard time separating Jace’s emotions from his own. It can be hard not to give into what the other one is feeling, especially when those feelings are so intense and powerful.

Izzy is off informing their parents about Hodge’s betrayal, while Alec and Jace get ready to go find him and hopefully prevent him from giving the Cup to Valentine. His brother is changing out of his wedding attire in his room, so Alec quickly takes the time to check on Lydia again. She’s resting in the infirmary and Magnus informs him that it’ll take a few days, but she going to be okay.

“Be careful out there,” the warlock says after Alec tells him about their mission, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. The young Shadowhunter nods, watching him look over at Lydia’s sleeping form once more. Magnus then bids him goodnight and makes his way home from the Institute.

Back in the weapons room, Jace is radiating barely contained rage, but Alec stays silent so as not to further provoke his brother. Clary, however, doesn’t seem to have the same intuition, and keeps badgering him about Valentine. Part of Alec agrees with her, but he knows better than to say that out loud. At least if he can stay close to his _parabatai_ , he can protect him, both from himself as well as other dangers out there.

They meet up with Luke and it doesn’t take them long to locate Hodge with the help of the werewolves. However, Jace slips away before Alec can stop him, attacking their former tutor and almost killing him. It’s tearing at Alec’s soul to see his brother in so much pain, especially when he denies that the Lightwoods are his family. They haven’t really had a chance to talk about the revelation that Valentine is Jace’s father, what with the wedding and them not speaking to each other, and Alec berates himself for not realizing sooner in how much pain Jace is. He almost seems like a different person, the turmoil of emotions reaching the other Shadowhunter through their shared bond difficult to bear.

Despite knowing better, Alec turns his back to his brother for one second to talk to Luke, and when he looks back, he and Hodge are gone. Growling in frustration, he calls him, the relief about Jace picking up the phone short-lived, however. He only tells him to help Clary and not to come looking for him. With the Cup now in Valentine’s hands, Jocelyn might be their only chance of defeating him. Alec wants to throw his phone to the ground in anger and see it shatter in a million pieces, but a text from Izzy halts him in his tracks.

_Alec, we need your help. Meet me at Magnus’._

Wondering why his sister is at the warlock’s place, he turns back to Luke.

“What did Jace say?” the pack leader asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“He thinks he can locate Valentine by himself and wants me to help Clary with waking up Jocelyn instead,” Alec replies, jaw clenched tensely.

Luke’s dark eyes examine his face for a moment, before he nods determinedly. “I’ll tell the pack to keep a look-out for Jace and Hodge. You go help Clary and the others. I’ll meet you back at the Institute when you’ve found the Book of the White.”

Alec nods in agreement and makes his way over to Brooklyn. The sun is slowly rising in the East, casting a soft, orange glow over the skyline of the city. It being a Saturday, he only encounters a few tourists heading out for breakfast and people on their morning jog and coffee run.

Izzy meets him outside of Magnus’ apartment, arms crossed tightly in front of her. “Did you find Hodge?” She looks behind him, frowning. “Where’s Jace?”

Alec sighs heavily, quickly relating what has happened earlier. His sister’s face twists in worry, but she also agrees that it’s best to wake Jocelyn and perhaps find Valentine that way. “He can take care of himself,” Izzy says quietly, giving Alec’s hand a light squeeze.

“I don’t know, Iz. I’ve never seen him so angry and in pain. Something is killing him from the inside.” The worst part about his brother’s obvious anguish is the fact that there is nothing Alec can do about it. He feels powerless and completely out of his depths.

“We’ll figure it out, Alec,” his sister goes to reassure him, but he can only shrug, feeling uncertain about the truth of her words.

The moment the two of them turn the corner to Magnus’ living room, all thoughts leave Alec’s head. The warlock is in a deep lip-lock with a woman, who, after closer inspection, turns out to be Camille, the one who turned Simon into a vampire. Alec can only stare at them, heart stuttering painfully in his chest. He can see Izzy’s appalled expression from the corner of his eyes and feels her bristle next to him.

When the two Downworlders part, Magnus looks over and at seeing the two Lightwoods stand there, extricates his arms from Camille’s grip. He looks both sheepish as well as mortified when he says: “Well, this is awkward.”

Trying to keep his voice even, he moves towards the vampire, ignoring what he’s just seen. “Where’s the book?”

“It’s complicated,” Magnus cuts in, chuckling nervously.

“Clearly,” Alec deadpans, eyes rapidly moving back and forth between the other two.

“I have it,” Camille pipes up, a wicked smile on her blood-red lips.

“And she’s graciously offered it in exchange for her freedom,” Magnus is quick to add, looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

Izzy scoffs. “And her freedom requires a lip-lock?”

A betrayed look crosses Magnus’ face and he raises a finger to indicate for her to keep her mouth shut.

Desperately trying to ignore the fact that his gut feels like it’s been filled with lead, Alec steps towards Camille, trying to sound stern and authoritative. “We don’t negotiate with prisoners.”

“Prisoner?” the vampire says with a mocking tone to her voice. “I beg to disagree. You see, I’m your only chance at saving the world. You need me.” A movement from Magnus draws Alec’s attention, even though he wants to ignore the warlock. His gesture clearly questions Camille’s sanity, but where Alec normally would have laughed, he only feels annoyed now. However, he can’t stop himself from noticing the slight stubble on the warlock’s face he has been growing since yesterday, which looks to be the beginnings of a goatee. It gives Magnus’ face a bit of an edge and part of Alec really likes it.

The vampire goes on talking, making him turn his eyes back to her. “You certainly have a type, don’t you, Magnus? He’s cute. Too bad it won’t last.”

“Say that again,” Izzy cuts in angrily, teeth clenched, “ _you_ won’t last!”

“I’d say he’s about 20 years from male pattern baldness.” Camille just cannot stop taunting him, while Magnus remains mute at her side. He looks slightly pissed, yet doesn’t stand up to the vampire.

Alec swallows against the lump in his throat and turns away from Camille. “I don’t have time for this. Where is Clary?” Following the direction Magnus is pointing, he leaves the other three in the living room, glad to turn his back to them.

 

///

 

They take Simon’s van to Camille’s apartment, the two vampires cramped in the back to avoid the sun. Clary is driving, with Izzy, Alec and Magnus squeezed together next to Simon’s band equipment. They ride in uncomfortable silence, only Camille’s occasional directions breaking the quiet. Izzy is squished in between Magnus and Alec, one leg almost in her brother’s lap, and she is trying and failing to look back and forth between them without either of them noticing.

The warlock is playing with the cuffs of his jacket, glancing over at Alec now and then. The Shadowhunter tries to ignore all the looks directed at him and focuses on the streets they pass on their way to Camille’s apartment.

“Take another right and then you should see a descent for the underground parking,” the vampire calls from the back. “It’s the big, white-bricked building on the left.” Clary follows the instructions and carefully navigates the van down a steep slope and into a fancy looking garage. Magnus pushes open the side door and they all scramble out of the van, stretching their legs to get rid of the cramps from keeping them in such a tight position for so long.

Camille leads them to a set of elevators and types a six-digit code into a fancy looking security system. With a ding, the doors open and they all step inside, once again having to cramp together in order to fit. The wooden paneling is adorned with intricate carvings of what, to Alec, look like flower pots. They ride the elevator in silence, and Magnus pushes open the metal door at their stop. Camille stalks out first, leading the group down a corridor and into a huge library. Although they must be somewhere on the third or fourth level, there are no windows anywhere. Tall shelves adorn most of the walls, the spines of countless books indicating a lifetime of collecting.

“Wow, you’ve got a lot of books,” Alec can’t help but comment, already wondering about how they are going to find that single one which holds the secret about how to wake up Clary’s mother.

“I’ve got a lot of time on my hands,” Camille replies.

A servant enters the library from an adjacent room, bowing slightly in front of the vampire. “Welcome home, Madame Belcourt.”

“This place creeps me out,” Izzy whispers to Alec, watching Simon and Clary, who immediately start to search the shelves.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, casting another glance around. Although the wallpaper is a bright green and gives the room some light, the portraits hanging off the walls make him feel uncomfortable. It’s like they are watching him, their dead stares making him shiver slightly. “Let’s check the perimeter.”

“Good idea,” Magnus cuts in, also letting his eyes take in the library. “If I know Camille, she’ll have a trick or three up her sleeve.” He makes a shooing motion with his hand, following Alec into the next room.

There are more book shelves here, as are in the room behind that. Alec checks each door, finding most of them locked, however. When he turns around, he notices that Izzy is not with them and that Magnus is watching him with an intense look in his dark eyes.

“Alexander,” he begins, but Alec raises a hand to stop him.

“It’s okay. It’s none of my business what you do and who you do it with.” He can’t quite keep the hurt tone out of his voice, avoiding looking at him directly, shoulders hunched inwards. Magnus’ face twists slightly and he moves closer to him.

“Alec, it’s not like that,” he explains, trying to catch his eye. “I promise you, Camille only kissed me to rile you up.”

At that, Alec raises his head and regards the warlock’s face carefully. It almost seems like a lifetime has passed since the wedding and their kiss, when in fact, it has only been less than a day. With the Cup now in Valentine’s hand, Hodge out there somewhere and Jace in complete turmoil, Alec has barely had time to catch a breath. Seeing Camille and Magnus kiss hasn’t really helped in the matter, rather again increasing the uncertainty he is experiencing. Looking at Magnus now, he can see the sincerity in his eyes. And he wants to believe him, despite the small part of him that whispers this is exactly why a relationship between them won’t work, that this is what his parents warned him about. He briefly closes his eyes, trying to quiet the noises in his head. It’s hard to think and he feels like he is being pulled in numerous different directions at once.

A hand on his elbow makes Alec open his eyes again and looks down at Magnus, who is now only inches in front of him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, so I’ll just say it once.” The warlock takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his next words. “Whatever I felt for Camille, it’s ancient history. Almost literally.”

“Yeah, but what she said about you being immortal… she’s right. You watch the people you care about age and die,” Alec says quietly.

“Alexander,” the warlock says, voice full of emotion. “I may be the High Warlock of Brooklyn, but… even I can’t see the future.” He hesitates, thinking about how else to reassure Alec of the truth of his words. “I know you’re feeling unsure, maybe a bit scared, and I completely understand. I wish you hadn’t seen that kiss, because I don’t want you to feel like you should regret kissing me at your wedding.” The warlock takes a deep breath. “But Alec, I promise you that you have nothing to worry about. I wasn’t lying when I said that you unlocked something in me. I haven’t felt like this in a long, long time and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize what we could have.”

Alec stares at Magnus’ face, so close to his, his heart beating away in his chest and his mind racing. Years of suppressing his emotions, of denying himself to ever feel too deeply, of not admitting what and who he wants, are raging inside of him. Alec wonders if it will always be a struggle to just let himself feel, both good and bad emotions, or if with time, it will get easier.

The dark eyes watching him are so full of hope and confidence that Alec pushes all the negative thoughts out of his head and brings his head down, lips brushing against Magnus’. The warlock seems surprised for a fraction of a second, before gripping him by the waist and pulling him closer. Their mouths move against each other, their shared breaths hot between their lips. Too soon, Alec pulls away, eyes looking at the other under heavy lids. “I don’t regret kissing you. Not now, not at my wedding.”

A warm smile blooms on Magnus’ face at his quiet admission and he squeezes his sides gently. “I’m glad.” Alec returns the smile slowly. It will probably take some time for the negative thoughts to stop plaguing him, but for now, he will not let them cloud his happiness.

They are so wrapped up in each other that even with Alec’s advanced hearing he only notices the presence behind him when it is too late. The tip of a Seraph blade pokes painfully against the back of his neck and Alec freezes on the spot. Before he can even try to twist away, a second weapon appears, this time at Magnus’ throat. They both look at each other, jaws clenched and arms slightly raised, but knowing full well that they can’t get out of this that easily.

“Isn’t this sweet,” a male voice drawls behind Alec, pulling him against a solid chest and moving the blade in front of his throat. “Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but we’re kind of busy here.”

Judging from the rune on the guy’s arm as well as the man now keeping Magnus in a tight grip, the two are obviously Shadowhunters. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they must be working for Valentine.

“Let’s go see your other little friends,” Alec’s capturer says, roughly shoving him forward. They are forced back into the library, Alec not quite managing to keep in a grunt of discomfort when his arms are twisted painfully behind his back. He can see two more Shadowhunters holding Izzy and Simon prisoner, while Clary, a white book in her hands, stares at the man in the middle of the room.

Alec has never seen him before, but immediately knows that it must be Valentine. Casting his gaze towards the entrance, he is surprised to find Jace standing there with his Seraph blade raised high, pointing at his father’s head. Their eyes lock for the briefest of moments, just as Valentine keeps talking. Addressing his son, he indicates everyone in the room with a nudge of his chin: “See, you are strong, but they make you weak.”

Alec watches Jace look around frantically, at him, Izzy, Clary, and he can feel his brother’s anguish through their shared bond.

“Let us go,” Clary says, voice only slightly wavering. “You can have the book. We won’t be able to stop you without it.”

“Ah, Clarissa,” Valentine says, turning towards his daughter with a cruel smile on his face. “So like your mother. Willing to do anything for those that you love. I’m touched, but… the book was never part of my plan. I _want_ you to wake up your mother. I know that you’ll both join me eventually. It’s fated.” Clary grips the book closer to her chest and sneers at Valentine, who turns back to Jace. “You ready?”

His _parabatai_ looks over at Alec, then Izzy and back at his father, eventually lowering his weapon. “If I go with you… promise me you won’t hurt them.”

Alec can’t believe what he is hearing. Jace can’t honestly believe he will just let him go away with this lunatic, without him, without any sort of backup. “You have my word,” Valentine replies. He sounds sincere, but Alec knows how deceiving this man can be. He wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him.

“This is insane,” Clary calls out, echoing Alec’s thoughts exactly.

“I’m sorry, Clary.” Jace doesn’t make a move when his father approaches him.

“Jace,” the redhead whispers, voice breaking, “what are you doing? You can’t be serious! Valentine is wrong. You’re not like him. _I’m_ not, _you’re_ not!”

Jace’s face twists in pain, which Alec can feel coursing through his own bones, making his knees wobble slightly. “You don’t know that, Clary. You don’t know that.”

There is a brief pause, the siblings staring at each other unbelievingly, until Valentine orders his men to let them all go. The guy holding Alec lowers his blade and roughly shoves him forward, almost making him collide with the weapon-brandishing arm of the Shadowhunter holding Magnus. Simon rushes towards Clary, while Izzy and Alec waste no time in moving in on their brother.

“Get back, get back!” Jace yells, holding his arms out to stop his siblings from coming any closer. “Alec, I mean it!”

Alec stares at his brother, chest heaving and heart slamming against his ribs, but completely frozen on the spot. He wants to say something, scream at his _parabatai_ to not be that stupid, that he can’t just go with Valentine, but Jace’s face tells him it would be of no use. Magnus is next to him, hands raised slightly, ready to stop them all with magic, but even he halts his movements at Jace’s harsh command.

Valentine’s men vanish through a portal one by one, while he himself steps forward, taking his son by the arm and pulling him away. Clary screams Jace’s name and throws the book at Simon, rushing towards the portal. Alec barely has time to think about anything, before he moves to intercept her, easily catching her around the waist and holding her back. He watches as his brother, with a last pained look back at them, steps into the portal and vanishes with a gush of air. The moment the portal closes, it’s like someone has punched him in the gut. The usually strong _parabatai_ bond, though still there, suddenly feels distant, almost empty. It’s as if with Jace gone, he is cut off, not able to sense him properly. Alec has never experienced anything like it, not even when he had weakened their bond, and it’s almost like a physical pain around the region of his heart.

“What are you doing?” Clary screams, pushing against Alec with her hands.

“Saving your life,” he replies automatically, though his throat feels tight. “If you enter a portal not knowing where you’re going, you’ll be stuck in limbo forever.” His breath is accelerated and he tries to fight against the sudden panic lurking at the back of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.

Clary’s eyes fill with tears and she sags against him, sobbing into his shoulder. Alec puts his arms around her hesitantly, almost holding himself up by keeping her on her feet. He looks over at his sister, who, together with Simon, moves forward eventually, taking Clary from him. He swallows back the bile threatening to rise in his throat and tries to calm his rapid breathing. Magnus bends to pick up the discarded Book of the White, then moves over to him.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, putting a hand to Alec’s elbow.

The Shadowhunter simply shakes his head, not quite trusting his voice at the moment.

“We need to get back to the Institute,” Izzy says from where she has an arm around a shocked Clary. The redhead has stopped crying, but streaks of tears are still shining on her face.

“We have the book now, so I’m sure I’ll find the right spell to wake Jocelyn,” Magnus immediately ensures, indicating the thick volume in his hands.

They make their way back to the garage, Alec’s legs feeling like lead. Riding to the Institute in complete silence, they arrive at the abandoned church just after sundown.

“I’ll go inform Mom and Dad of what happened,” Izzy says quietly as they walk towards the ops center. Alec nods, feeling suddenly out of place without his _parabatai_ at his side. He watches his sister go and moves into the corridor, leaning against the wooden paneling. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he takes a deep breath, sensing Magnus’ hovering presence close by. It feels different than before, with his brother gone off to God knows where. Even when Clary and Jace had been in the alternate dimension, the part of him that was connected to Alec still shone strong like a beacon of light. Now, it’s like someone has cut the line between them, his calls simply trailing off empty into the distance.

“Alec?” Magnus asks eventually, voice soft.

His eyes are stinging with unshed tears when he looks up at the warlock, who puts a hand to the back of Alec’s neck, squeezing gently.

“I can’t sense Jace through our bond,” he croaks out hoarsely.

Magnus’ eyes narrow, brows drawing together. “We’ll figure something out.” His smile is warm and reassuring, and Alec allows himself to bathe in the warlock’s affection for a moment.

They are interrupted by Luke, who looks at Magnus expectantly. “They’re ready. They moved her to the ops center.”

“Good,” Magnus replies. “We need the space. Jocelyn’s spell is very powerful.” He follows the werewolf, while Alec stays behind for a moment longer, still leaning against the wall. Eventually pushing to a standing, he walks to the ops center, where the others have already gathered around Jocelyn’s sleeping form. He comes to stand next to Luke, hands clasping behind his back, while Clary hands over the Book of the White to Magnus.

“Do you really think this is gonna work?” she asks quietly.

“Let us hope,” the warlock replies, thumbing through the book until he comes across the spell he needs. Snapping his fingers, blue magic spreads over the green energy bubble around the older woman, and Magnus starts chanting in Chthonian, one of the demons’ languages primarily used by warlocks to cast their spells.

Sparks fly and Jocelyn’s body jerks like she is being electrocuted. Luke rushes forward as the energy bubble flickers and begins to fade, catching her before she can fall to the floor. Alec watches her embrace the werewolf, before he sets her gently down. Looking around the Institute in wonder, she finally catches sight of her daughter, who throws herself into her arms. Several Shadowhunters in the ops center watch as mother and daughter are finally reunited and even Alec can’t deny the slight tug to his heartstring at the display. Thinking about Jace, he can only pray that his brother’s mother will be able to help them find and defeat Valentine once and for all.

Giving Jocelyn, Luke and Clary some privacy, Izzy, Alec and Magnus move away. A stern look from the dark-haired Shadowhunter sends the others still mingling about scurrying away.

“Well,” Magnus says, putting down the book and leaning against the nearest desk, “that was one hell of a day.”

Izzy chuckles in agreement, casting a quick glance back at the reunited family. “But at least we’ve got Jocelyn back. Hopefully she’ll be able to help us track down Valentine. And Jace.”

Alec remains silent, subconsciously rubbing his palm over his sternum. An uncomfortable numbness is spreading through his chest the longer his _parabatai_ bond remains feeling empty.

Magnus looks over at him, sensing his helplessness, and places his own hand over the one on Alec’s chest. “We’ll find him, Alexander,” he reassures him, lacing their fingers together. “And we’ll bring him back as soon as possible.”

Izzy wipes at her eyes and slings her arms around her brother. He puts his own over her shoulders, keeping both his sister and Magnus close in their own private bubble of hope, reassurance and comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just saw another teaser for 2x11 and it included a casual hello-kiss from Malec. I might have died on the spot! xD
> 
> On a different note, I changed Magnus and Alec’s interaction from the very end of the episode and had them have that talk earlier on in the story. I mean, what else would they have discussed at Camille’s? They were gone for a loooong time...
> 
> I need a short break now and hopefully have that special interlude up by the end of the week. Real life might get in the way, but I’ll try my best. And no worries, season 2 shall follow immediately after. Those were actually the episodes I started with, so I have a few things already written down.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at light-in-the-wood. xxx


	11. The Bloody Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the late update, but I’m still kind of reeling after that insane episode on Monday! I cannot wait for the next episode and see how they’re gonna deal with the whole body-swap situation. *screams*
> 
> Okay, so I know I said I would post that special something I have planned as an interlude, but I honestly couldn’t focus on it. The episodes just keep pushing to the front, so I think I’ll continue on with them for the time being. But I’m not forgetting about that interlude, I promise!
> 
> So, here we are at season 2, let’s get right into it. Thanks for all your kudos and comments, I live for every single one of them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The next three days pass in a blur. The Shadowhunters busy themselves with trying to locate Jace, while Luke has the pack on the lookout for Valentine. Unfortunately, Jocelyn proves to be of not much help, as she only remembers bits and pieces of when she had been kept at Chernobyl. Robert heads back to Idris a few hours after they wake Jocelyn, to keep the Clave in the loop and take care of Max. Maryse serves as intermediary for the time being. On day two, Lydia is also back in action, fully healed and ready to go. She throws herself into the work immediately and Alec is glad about it. With each passing hour, he feels worse. It’s as if he’s moving through molasses, his arms and legs feeling like lead and his head a fuzzy mess. He is in a constant state of nausea, but he tries to fight against it all. Although he has a hard time focusing on anything, he pushes the numbness in his chest to the side and puts all his energy in trying to find his brother. Alec has barely slept or eaten anything in the last three days, and he can feel his sister’s worried eyes on him whenever she sees his pale face.

It’s sometime after 10 at night, the sun long gone behind the horizon, when Magnus arrives at the Institute by invitation of Lydia. He meets Izzy and Alec in the entry hall, his eyes tired but alert. He’s exhausted most of the spells he knows at home, talked to several of his warlock friends, but now has only one idea left.

“Isabelle, go get me something from Jace’s,” he directs the Shadowhunter, “a shirt or pants, anything he’s had on his body recently.”

She nods, quickly making her way to her brother’s room. Magnus steps closer to Alec, who stares after his sister for a moment, lost in thought. A hand touches his elbow lightly and he looks down to where the warlock’s fingers brush against his skin. “I know it’s a stupid question to ask, but I’m gonna ask it anyway: How are you?”

The dark eyes trained on him are full of sympathy and worry, but burn with an intensity that makes Alec shiver. His gaze moves across Magnus’ face, down to his full lips, now framed by a proper goatee, and back up to his eyes. Shrugging with one shoulder, brows drawn together, he simply mutters: “I just need him back.”

Magnus nods solemnly, when Izzy returns, a light shirt of Jace’s in her hands. “Will this do?” she asks, slightly out of breath.

“Let’s go and find out,” Magnus replies, taking the garment from her. The three make their way to the ops center, where Lydia is waiting for them at the entry. “I’m glad you could come, Magnus.” The warlock gives her a warm smile. Ever since he has healed her after Hodge’s attack, the two have stuck up an unlikely friendship.

“Any word from the Clave?” Izzy asks, while they walk towards one of the smart tables.

“Not yet,” Lydia replies, “and we’ve been trying for the past four hours. Something’s up.” The Clave had been rather silent about how the Institute should precede now that Valentine had the Cup and Jace was with him. Robert had sent a few messages over the course of the last few days, but the Clave had gone into a special session just this afternoon, without inviting the elder Lightwood to sit in.

“Mmh,” Magnus hums, “the Clave being unhelpful? Who’s shocked? Show of hands?” His attempt at lightening the mood goes off the mark, however. Izzy shoots him a look, eyebrows raised, while they all move around the computer.

“I still can’t sense Jace through our _parabatai_ bond,” Alec says quietly. It feels like an admission of failure, him not being able to find his brother although they are connected like this. Ever since Jace has left with Valentine, there is only a numb feeling at the place where Alec usually feels their bond.

“We’ll find him, Alexander,” Magnus reassures him once more. He turns his back to the others, raises Jace’s shirt and conjures his magic with a snap of his fingers.

“When we arrested Hodge, he said Valentine was on a ship,” Izzy says, leaning on the smart table. “They must still be over water.” She looks up at her brother, who casts his gaze down at the computer. They had established that only water could interfere with the _parabatai_ bond like that, and also keep the warlocks from locating Valentine and the Cup. Up until now, they still hadn’t found a way of working around that obstacle.

“Pull up the waterways around New York,” Lydia says, eyes narrowed in deep concentration.

Izzy moves her hands across the smart table, moving this way and that, to give them a better view of the Hudson and East River and the possible routes a boat could have taken. “The ship couldn’t have gone too far.”

Alec watches his sister work, but he knows it’s futile. If they haven’t found Valentine and Jace until now, they are not going to any time soon. There is a painful pressure behind his eyes, his head pounding like someone hit him with a sledgehammer, but he tries to push those feelings aside. This is not the time to freak out and panic. He looks over at Magnus, who is still waving his hand across Jace’s shirt, his lips pressed together in a grim line.

“Anything?” Alec asks, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Sorry,” Magnus replies, shaking his head lightly.

“There’s got to be something!” His voice is rising against his own volition, the desperation clear for everyone to hear. He has trouble clinging to his sense of self-control, feeling like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, nothing holding him back from tumbling into the abyss.

Magnus shoots him a dark look, a vein pulsing at the side of his head. But his voice is controlled, more so than Alec’s, when he replies: “I don’t see him.”

It’s like something snaps in Alec at that, the last modicum of hope he was clinging to shredded to pieces. If even Magnus, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, can’t find his brother, then who can?

“Alright, listen up,” he calls out, turning the heads of all Shadowhunters moving around the ops center. “I want 24/7 monitoring of the Hudson and East Rivers. If you see anything unusual, you come to _me_ first.”

“I’ve got this, Alec,” Lydia cuts in, her face stern.

“Then why haven’t you found Jace yet?” he lashes out at her, the pressure in his head rising continually.

Their faces are only inches apart, but she only stares back at him, not feeling the least bit cowered by his aggression. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I am still the head of this Institute,” she reminds him, her voice angry but controlled.

It’s like someone has taken all sense of restraint away from Alec and he can’t stop himself from reacting viciously. “And my brother is still missing!” he fires back, voice too loud even to his own ears.

He feels Izzy moving closer to him, her arm raised pacifyingly. “Why don’t you just take a break?” she says softly.

“Not now, Izzy,” Alec snaps, turning on her.

“Isabelle’s right,” Lydia counters, “and it’s not a request. You’re dismissed.”

Alec stares at her, heart pounding against his ribs. His chest is heaving, trying to catch a breath, and he feels the ground move beneath his feet. “Fine,” he spits out. If they won’t let him help find Jace, then he’ll bloody well do it on his own.

He turns to leave, but feels a hand catch his elbow, holding him back. “Hey,” Magnus utters softly, eyes conveying sympathy Alec doesn’t want or need.

He hesitates for a moment, then snatches his arm back and out of the warlock’s grip. Looking around at the faces in front of him, he can’t stand to be in their presence for even a second longer. “Everybody, just back off!” Turning around, he storms off. The pressure behind his eyes almost blinds him as he races out of the ops center and into the next corridor. His feet seem to move on their own, carrying him swiftly up some stairs and eventually out onto the roof. Stumbling towards the balustrade, he catches himself with both hands against the cool stone, blindly staring out across the New York skyline. The skyscrapers’ lights shine in the distance, casting a soft glow over the Institute.

Alec closes his eyes against the brightness, trying to calm down his accelerated breathing and heartbeat. With the cool night air, the pressure in his head has slightly diminished, but he still struggles to get enough oxygen into his lungs. Ever since Jace has left, he has had trouble catching his breath and finding his inner peace. Fighting against completely spiraling out of control, Alec moves a hand across his chest, over his heart and sternum, down to the side that holds his _parabatai_ rune. It feels cooler than the rest of his body, as if it’s missing the energy it usually receives through the openness of their bond.

With a dry mouth, he swallows against the bile threatening to rise in his throat and starts counting in his head. Breathe in, one, two, three, four, five, hold the breath, one, two, three, four, five, breathe out, one, two, three, four, five. And repeat. He continues with this mantra for a few minutes, slowly matching his breathing to it and calming his heartrate significantly. He can’t really do anything against the nausea or numbness in his chest, but at least the headache is receding slightly.

Alec doesn’t know how long he stays like this, elbows leaning on the banister, eyes now open and scanning the city. The noise of a police siren reaches his ears, still sounding shrill so high above the street level. Suddenly, he hears a door open and close behind him, and doesn’t even have to turn around to recognize the careful footsteps. It’s like his whole body is so finely attuned to Magnus already, that it instantly identifies him out of everyone Alec knows. He wants nothing more than to turn around and perhaps throw himself in the warlock’s arms, but he stays where he is, not willing to show yet more weakness and emotions, not even in front of Magnus, or perhaps especially not with him. They haven’t had time to discuss their relationship beyond that brief moment at Camille’s, but it almost seems like a lifetime ago now.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted before,” he says quietly, feeling Magnus hovering right behind him. “It’s not personal.”

“I get it,” the warlock replies, moving closer. “I’m a lot to get used to. I know what you’re going through, Alexander.” He comes to a stand next to him, fingers playing with the rings on his right hand.

“No, I… I don’t think you do,” Alec stammers, turning his body towards the other man. He needs to make Magnus understand what it’s like to feel like this, have his _parabatai_ in the hands of a psychopath and no way of getting to him. Alec feels empty and at the same time, Magnus’ presence ignites something in him that makes him feel more alive than ever. This inner conflict is tearing him apart, not knowing what to think or feel or do. “Jace is a part of me. Through a rune, we’re both physically and emotionally connected. If he dies, a part of me dies, too. And I know he’s out there. And he’s in trouble and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

He moves away from Magnus, not being able to stand the hurt and pity in the other’s dark eyes. He doesn’t mention that part of him also feels guilty for wanting to be near the warlock, wanting to feel his hot breath on his face, run his hands through his black hair and kiss down the side of his neck. He chastises himself for even thinking this way when his brother is out there missing and probably in mortal danger.

“Tell me what I can do,” Magnus interrupts his thoughts, halting him in his tracks. He had thought they were all out of options, what with the water interfering with tracking Jace down. But suddenly, an idea pops into Alec’s head, a way he might locate his brother after all. He’s done it before, so who is to say it won’t work again?

He turns back around, eyebrows drawn together. “Help me track Jace. I want to use our rune.” Magnus’ hopeful expression falls, his mouth opening in protest. “I just need your magic for the pain,” Alec is quick to add, but the warlock is having none of it.

“I can’t help you with this,” Magnus says, voice unbearably soft.

“Why not?”

“The last time you used the rune to track Jace, it almost killed you!” His face is serious, lips in a straight line and eyebrows drawn together. There is also a desperation in his voice, a worry in his eyes that makes it hard for Alec to cling to his anger.

But he can also see that Magnus won’t budge on this, making him lash out once more. “Why can’t you just do this one thing? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Magnus stares at him incredulously, mouth slightly agape. A flash of hurt crosses his face, but is quickly replaced by a closed-off expression of silent anger. Part of Alec wants to kick himself for making Magnus look at him like that, but he is stuck too deep in his own emotional chaos to deal with the warlock’s now, too. He knows he is being unfair, but without Jace there to ground him, Alec feels like someone has cut the lifeline to his common sense and self-control.

He turns away again and races down the steps to his own room, but doesn’t get very far before his phone signals an incoming text from his sister.

_Get to the ops center, NOW!_

 

///

 

After the bombshell his mother drops on all of them in the ops center, Alec is amongst the first to be called in for questioning. He meets Izzy on the way to his parents’ former office, which now, apparently, belongs to Aldertree.

“What did he ask?” he says to Izzy without much preamble.

She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at him. “That pompous prick. Thinks he can get me to talk badly about my brother,” she growls, making Alec’s stomach twist in nervous knots. “He wanted to know why Jace went with Valentine, as if I know. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell him.”

“Take it easy, Iz,” Alec admonishes her, casting a quick look around. They are alone in the corridor, but with the Clave in uproar and Lydia and the Lightwoods practically shut out once more, he can’t be sure there are no eyes watching their every move now.

She huffs, throwing her hands up in the air. “Honestly, I don’t like where this is going.”

Alec nods in agreement, rubbing the fingers of his left hand against his temple. His head is pounding once again and he just wants to lay down and sleep for a week.

“Hey,” Izzy says softly, putting her hand on his forearm, “are you okay?”

“No,” he admits quietly, closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath through his nose.

She squeezes his arm gently. “Where is Magnus?”

He opens his eyes to look at her and whatever she sees on his face makes her raise her eyebrows. “I don’t know. He’s probably around somewhere.”

“Are you two okay?”

Alec shrugs, making Izzy drop her hand from his arm. She opens her mouth to say something else, but he cuts her off with a stern look. “I’ll better get going,” he says eventually, patting his sister’s shoulder once. She hesitates for a moment, then nods and steps aside to let him pass. He can feel her eyes bore into his back when he heads for the door of the office. Knocking once, he steps inside and casts a glance around.

Aldertree sits behind his father’s desk, the warm glow of orange flames in the fire place illuminating the side of his dark face. His eyes shimmer and move up and down Alec’s body when he comes to stand in front of the desk, back straight and hands clasped behind him.

“Alec Lightwood, it’s a pleasure,” Aldertree says, his British accent lending his voice a certain softness and false sense of sincerity. Alec doesn’t return the sentiment and only regards the Institute’s new head with cool indifference. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“I prefer to stand,” Alec replies, back ramrod straight and head held high. His knees feel a little wobbly, the nausea still at the back of his throat, but he locks his muscles together tightly, not allowing himself to show any kind of weakness. He has heard of Aldertree before, but only briefly, therefore can’t quite gauge his character.

“Fair enough,” the other man replies, also standing from his place behind the desk. He moves towards the fire place, casually leaning against the side of it. “Why don’t you tell me about what happened with the Cup and Jace Wayland?”

Alec quickly and proficiently recounts all that has transpired since Hodge had stolen the Cup, smoothly glancing over the fact that Jace had taken off with the former tutor to hunt Valentine down by himself. He goes on talking about asking Magnus for help in locating the Book of the White to wake Jocelyn in the hopes of her leading them to Valentine, and finishes with Jace vanishing through the portal at Camille’s lair.

“So, let me get this straight,” Aldertree cuts in, “Jace willingly went with Valentine through that portal?”

“Not willingly, no,” Alec clarifies. “He only did it to protect us. We were outnumbered.”

The older Shadowhunter rubs a hand across his beard thoughtfully, eyes staring into the distance. “And you weren’t in the room when Jace turned up at the vampire’s lair, am I correct?” he asks eventually, gaze on Alec’s face once more. “What were you doing?”

Alec hunches his shoulders, shifting imperceptibly on his feet. “Like I said, I was checking the perimeters.”

“Alone?”

“No, with Isabelle and Magnus.”

“Isabelle said she was making her rounds alone.”

“She did. Magnus and I checked the remaining rooms.”

Aldertree smiles at that, the white of his teeth almost blindingly harsh against the dark skin of his face. “Why did it take you and the warlock so long to return to the library? You said Jace was already there when Valentine’s men brought you back.”

Alec swallows, the muscles in his neck taut. “We, um, we just talked. Then the Circle members surprised us and took us to the others. I already told you the rest.”

Aldertree is still smiling and it unnerves Alec how gleeful he looks. “What were you talking about that it distracted you enough to get taken prisoner?”

Alec bristles, gripping his own hands harder to keep them from wrapping around the other man’s throat. “That’s private,” he presses out between clenched teeth, eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. We talked, I got distracted, Jace tried to save us, and now he’s gone. We need to go back to work and find him.” His voice sounds harsh even to his own ears, and judging from Aldertree’s piqued look, he’s not too happy with Alec telling him what to do either.

They stare at each other for a moment, neither wanting to back down, but eventually Aldertree’s smile returns and he shrugs. “You’re right, of course. It’s a priority to get Jace Wayland back. He’s one of us, after all.” The way he says it doesn’t ease the unpleasant feeling Alec has in the pit of his stomach, however. Something about the glint in the older man’s eyes makes him feel uncomfortable. “I’m assuming your warlock friend is still at the Institute?”

“ _Magnus_ is still here, yes,” Alec replies, not able to refrain from using his _warlock friend_ ’s name. Aldertree seems worse than his parents, apparently thinking he is above Downworlders like Magnus and therefore not even bothering with using their proper names and titles.

The new head of the Institute only smirks, dismissing Alec with a flick of his hand. “Very well. You may go.” Alec nods curtly, turning on his heels and marching from the room. His head is still pounding, but he tries to shake the feeling off and heads for the ops center.

He busies himself with work, not paying attention to Lydia, Izzy or his mother. They all float around him, trying to catch his attention or force him to talk. But even Maryse eventually keeps her distance, after he shoots her a cold and stern look. They haven’t really talked since the wedding, Izzy handling most of the ramifications of the loss of the Cup and Jace’s absence with regards to their parents. Alec is glad he hasn’t had to deal with her in the last couple of days, happily keeping his distance.

He is just checking some security footage from the rivers, when someone catches his attention. Magnus moves through the ops center, rubbing a hand across his neck. Alec can see the tiredness in the warlock’s shoulders, his normally straight posture slightly slanted.

“Hey,” Alec calls out, and again when Magnus makes no move to stop. “Hey!”

He eventually catches up to him in the entry hall, not failing to notice the annoyance in the other man’s face. “Are you going home?” Alec asks carefully.

Magnus looks irritated, only just keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Where else would I be going? My interview is over and I’m exhausted,”, he counters. Alec can see the fatigue in the small lines around Magnus’ eyes and instantly feels sorry for sounding so harsh and demanding. “Besides, at my house, there’s steak and vodka. I’d rather be there.” He turns around again to leave.

“Wait, you’re just…” Alec cuts in, making him stop once more. “You’re not gonna help?”

The look Magnus sends him is both disbelieving as well as impressed. But it rather feels like the warlock is impressed at Alec’s stupidity than anything else. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Magnus replies, voice devoid of his usual warmth. “You didn’t risk anything for me, you did it for you.”

Alec stares at the other man, eyebrows drawn tightly together. “What? I… a-are you seriously doing this right now? _Right_ _now_?” he stutters, completely pushed off center once more. He had thought this was still about his earlier behavior regarding the use of his rune to track Jace, not what had transpired at the wedding.

Magnus narrows his eyes at him, mouth set in a hard line. “You know damn well I want to find Jace just as much as you do, but that’s no excuse to treat me like- “

“Well then, what do you want from me?” Alec bursts out, voice much louder than he intended. He can feel his heart make a painful jump in his chest, headache once again increasing.

They both stare at each other, Alec struggling to keep his composure, Magnus obviously hurt and annoyed by Alec’s outburst. The warlock swallows, letting out a long breath. “At the moment,” he says eventually, “nothing.”

Alec feels immediately sorry, all the anger rushing out of him in a flash. He can’t stand to see the hurt in Magnus’ eyes and wants to punch himself for disappointing the warlock like that. They haven’t even had time to really define their relationship and here he is, already causing them to fight. He wants to grip his own hair and pull or smash his fists against the wall in anger, mostly at himself, but he is frozen on the spot. Just as Alec opens his mouth to say something, anything, perhaps to apologize, the Institute’s alarm starts blaring from the speakers. Bright red lights start flashing behind him, making them both look up.

Magnus purses his lips, not waiting for Alec to make up his mind and turns to leave. He raises a hand to stop the warlock, but knows it’s futile. Sighing, he moves back to the ops center to see his world crumble to dust once more.

 

///

 

“I can’t believe him!” Izzy splutters angrily, pacing the length of Alec’s room, hands thrown up in the air. “What an idiot! And I can’t believe Mom went along with this.”

Alec watches her from the perch on his bed, arms crossed in front of his chest. After Aldertree had dismissed them, basically threatening them with de-runing should they question his authority again, both Lightwoods had moved to Alec’s room to figure out their next move.

“Calm down, Iz,” Alec admonishes his sister. His head is pounding, the ache worse once again, and all he wants to do is lay down and catch some much-needed sleep. He knows there isn’t much they can do tonight, what with them being prohibited from participating in the search for Jace. It’s not like either of them will let that deter them, but for now, they need to keep their heads down and not draw attention to themselves.

“I can’t calm down, Alec! Mom didn’t say a word against Aldertree! Jace is her son!” his sister spits out, hands balled to fists on her hips.

Alec rubs the spot between his eyes with his thumbs and index finger, breathing in deeply through his mouth to keep the nausea at bay. He is still shocked what his mother had said about Jace to Isabelle when she had encountered her earlier, while Alec was still dealing with some issues in the ops center. He has a hard time focusing on his sister’s voice now, however, the pain in his head and heart almost overwhelming. Everything seems to be spiraling out of control; Jace is gone, Magnus is mad at him, Aldertree has taken over, and now his own mother wants his brother, her adopted son, captured dead or alive, with no particular insistence on the latter.

“Hey,” Izzy says gently, sitting down next to him on the bed and pulling his hand away from his face. “What’s wrong?”

“My head is killing me,” Alec replies quietly, clenching his jaw against the pain.

“Is it because of the bond?” his sister asks, carding her hand through his hair in a soothing motion.

Alec shrugs, pinching his eyes together in discomfort. “Probably.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“A while,” he admits, hearing his sister’s annoyed huff to his right.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Alec doesn’t reply, bending forward to put his elbows on his knees and lay his head down in his palms. Izzy rubs soothing circles across his back, humming quietly under her breath.

“Maybe an _iratze_ would help?” she suggests after a moment, drawing out her stele and holding it up questioningly. He hadn’t considered it before, too distracted with all that’s been going on to really think about his own pains and feelings.

“Let’s just try it,” Izzy says, getting on her knees on the bed to reach the back of his neck. She quickly draws a healing rune right at the base of his hairline. It burns for a moment, then a certain sort of calm spreads through Alec’s body, the feeling like taking a cold drink on a hot summer’s day. It doesn’t take the pain away completely, but his headache recedes to an annoying pressure behind his eyes once more.

“Better?” his sister asks quietly, one warm hand still placed on his shoulder.

He nods slowly. “Yes, thank you.”

“You should probably get some rest now,” Izzy says after a brief silence, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “And to be honest, I could use some sleep, too.”

Alec nods again, bending down to open his laces and slip out of his boots. “What are we going to do about Jace?” he asks, looking over at his sister.

She chews her lower lip in thought, eyebrows drawn together. “I’ll talk to Clary tomorrow. The way I know her, she’s gonna do something stupid if we don’t keep an eye on her.” Alec agrees wholeheartedly. Part of him is still pissed that she apparently had given Aldertree the ammunition he needed to give the dead-or-alive order, but the other part knows all their secrecy and unsanctioned missions in the last few weeks also contributed to the decision. “We need to keep our heads down for now, until we can prove that Jace is not working with Valentine.”

“I’ll head over to Magnus’ after work,” Alec says readily.

“To apologize?” Izzy asks quietly, a small smile playing on her lips.

He narrows his eyes at her and huffs. “How do you even know about that?”

She smirks, throwing her hair over her shoulder in an elegant flip. “Oh please. Everyone could hear you yelling before the alarm went off.”

A blush creeps up his neck and he wants to slap himself in the face for having a tiff with his… boyfriend? With Magnus, in the earshot of half the Institute. “Great. Just great,” he mumbles under his breath, making his sister snicker next to him.

“It’s okay, big brother. Just tell him you’re sorry. If you mean it, he’ll forgive you instantly. Especially if you look at him with that sort of kicked-puppy-eyes you sometimes make.”

Alec snorts, giving Izzy a slight push. “I do _not_ look like a kicked puppy.” His sister just laughs at him, getting up from the bed and moving towards the door. “But I am sorry. I really am.”

Izzy turns back to him, a warm smile on her face. “I know you are. And Magnus knows it, too. Just be sincere.” With that, she blows him a kiss goodnight and closes the door behind her.

He crawls up the bed, stretching out his legs, and stares at the ceiling. He really is sorry for snapping at Magnus like that. The warlock had been right, as always, about Alec’s motivation. He hadn’t really had time to think about it yet, but in the end, he hadn’t wanted to put himself back any longer and take something for himself for once. Magnus’ presence had only given him that final push, the courage that he had needed to step down from that dais and blow all caution to the wind. Determined to make amends tomorrow, Alec falls into a restless, fitful sleep, full of flashes of golden hair and mismatched eyes and screams that sound an awful lot like his _parabatai_.

 

///

 

Alec is still fuming from the confrontation with his mother when he arrives at Magnus’ apartment building. Now that the lockdown had been lifted, he had finally found a moment to steal away to go see the warlock after a long day at work, only to be accosted by his mother has soon as his feet had hit the steps outside the Institute. He still can’t believe the way she had talked about his brother, a boy she had raised and treated as one of her own, like he had suddenly become something disgusting to be thrown away before it infested everything around it.

The sun being almost gone in the west, the last rays of orange light vanish behind the tall buildings of Brooklyn. He takes the elevator to the top floor, his leg bouncing nervously. He’s still unsure about what exactly to say to Magnus, how best to apologize. Hesitating in front of his door, he debates knocking. But when he tries the handle, the door swings open all on its own, like it recognizes his presence. Cautiously making his way inside, he takes a look around. Has Magnus redecorated? Something about the loft looks different, but Alec can’t quite put his finger on it.

He spots Magnus on the balcony, practicing some form of training, an orb of magic floating between his hands. The warlock is shirtless, and Alec watches in fascination as the strong muscles in his back and broad shoulders move under his bronze skin. His stomach clenches deliciously at the sight, and he feels a very different kind of pressure, this time in the low regions between his legs. A deep blush creeps up his neck and his face suddenly feels like it’s on fire.

“Magnus?” Alec addresses the other eventually, voice low, when the warlock makes no move to turn around or acknowledge his presence otherwise. Better go right ahead and say what he has come here for. “I’m not good at apologies… but I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Continue,” Magnus says, back still turned to the young Shadowhunter and not interrupting his training for even a second.

Alec frowns, unsure what else to say. “I’m… _really_ sorry,” he huffs out, though it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“For?” The warlock really isn’t meeting him halfway here. His movements and all that naked skin are making it hard for Alec to concentrate properly, though it’s not even like he’s never seen another guy with his shirt off. Jace and he have trained in nothing but shorts more times than he can count, but somehow, he has always kept himself from really paying attention to the way the muscles ripple with each elegantly fluid movement, how the skin shifts over bones and flesh. He shuffles his feet a bit and sighs. “Look, can you just cut that out for a second?” Magnus’ training is about to give him a coronary, his heart is thumping so wildly in his chest.

The warlock suddenly stands up straight, swirls his hands around in an elaborate sequence, then sends the energy ball flying over his shoulder towards Alec. Quickly moving his head and upper body to the side, hands still clasped behind his back, the Shadowhunter dodges the magic, which crashes against a nearby lamp, knocking the shade askew. Alec is surprised, to say the least, staring at the shaking lamp and then back at Magnus. He can still feel the heat of the energy ball passing so closely to his face, although he’s sure it wouldn’t have actually hurt him. Much.

Magnus, still not looking at Alec, moves out of view, so he follows him out onto the balcony. “You were right,” Alec continues, trying to ignore the power display from just now. He watches Magnus shrug into a light, sleeveless jacket, part of him glad most of the other one’s sweaty, naked skin is now out of sight. “When I called off my wedding, that was for me. But this is all just… It’s very new.”

“This may surprise you,” Magnus huffs out, zipping up his jacket, “but you’re new for me, too.”

Alec looks to the side for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. “Look, with Jace missing, it’s just like… the ground has shifted and I can’t keep my bala- just- “ Magnus immediately starts rolling his eyes at the mention of Jace and moves to head back inside. Alec throws his arm out to catch him by the elbow, gently but decisively pulling him back in front of him. Slowly trailing his hand down the warlock’s arm, he loosely takes the other one’s hand in his, willing him to stay and hear him out. Magnus’ eyes travel up from their clasped hands, over his chest, up to his eyes, an unreadable expression on his sharp face.

“I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” Alec says quietly, his voice soft and pleading. He lowers his gaze, suddenly feeling too open and vulnerable. “I’m sorry.”

Magnus regards him with a serious expression, dark eyes trained on him. “You’re forgiven,” he says eventually, flooding Alec’s body with a pure sense of relief. “Also, you’re great at apologies.” Magnus smirks, raising a hand to smooth out the tangle at Alec’s coat collar. Stroking his hand down his chest, Alec can’t help but break out in a smile, chuckling softly. Taking a deep breath, he says: “Thanks. I’ve been working on it.”

Letting go of Magnus, he once again clasps his hands behind his back, moving towards the balustrade and casting his eyes across the New York skyline. His heart is back to a soft, if slightly elevated rhythm in his chest, and he feels a bit lighter than before.

“Here’s the thing,” Magnus says, moving next to him, the heat from his body warming Alec’s right side from shoulder to knee, “we’re always going to face challenges. So, when things get crazy, don’t push me away.”

Alec turns his body towards the warlock, one hand resting on the cold, stony banister. Magnus puts his own over his, warm fingers squeezing gently. They look at each other and he nods in agreement. It will be difficult to unlearn all the things beaten into him over the course of his life, both physically as well as mentally, but for Magnus, he is willing to try. He wants nothing more than to kiss the warlock now, wondering how his goatee will feel against his lips and the skin of his cheeks. But he knows that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. This is not the time to lose himself in Magnus, as much as he wants it.

Moving his hand from under Magnus’, Alec scratches his thumb over the scar in his left eyebrow, biting his lip thoughtfully. “I know you said you wouldn’t help me with finding Jace through our rune,” Alec begins, but Magnus quickly finger to his lips, silencing him. It reminds Alec of that evening, almost a lifetime ago now, when they had had their first drink together, after the warlock had healed Luke.

“I’m still not convinced it is the best idea, but since we don’t have any others, I don’t think we have another choice but to try it.” He waves Alec to follow him back inside, gesturing to the leather sofa with a hand. “It’s best if you lay down. This will hurt.”

“I know,” Alec mutters quietly. He closes the balcony doors behind him, then takes off his jacket and shirt and stretches out on the couch. Drawing out his stele from his jeans pocket, he hovers it over the _parabatai_ rune on his lower left side.

Magnus comes to stand behind the coach, face serious, eyes raking over the now shirtless form of the young Shadowhunter. With a certain sense of irony and judging from the barely contained heat behind the warlock’s dark eyes, Alec realizes how reversed their roles suddenly are compared to earlier.

“Alright, Alec,” Magnus says, voice slightly husky, “ready to track your _parabatai_?”

Alec looks up at him and nods curtly. Magnus hesitates briefly, as if he’s waiting for Alec to change his mind after all, but eventually snaps his fingers, blue magic wafting around the hands raised over Alec’s upper body. Magnus moves them forward, the energy hitting and pulsating through Alec’s chest, warming him from within. His head seems clearer as it has been in days, the headache gone completely for the first time since Jace’s disappearance. Magnus’ magic feels like a hundred _iratzes_ all working together, except it doesn’t burn but rather soothes his worked-up nerves in a calm and soft way.

Clenching and unclenching his left hand, he moves the tip of his stele to the rune, breathing heavily. He is not scared of the pain, although his body still clearly remembers the torture it had gone through when Hodge had drawn the tracking rune on his side. He rather fears what this will do to their _parabatai_ bond, judging from how it had almost torn them apart the last time Alec had tried this. But he’s all out of choices, so this is the only way to find his brother and bring him back home safely. His hand trembles slightly, when the stele begins to glow, but suddenly, it’s as if that numb place inside his chest blooms back to life. Alec raises his head in surprise, his mind questioningly examining the bond. It shines bright and strong inside of him, and he feels the emotions from his brother’s side flooding back in. It’s almost too much trying to withstand the onslaught of pain, suffering, fear, curiosity and anger he gets from Jace, paired with his own sense of pure and utter relief. His brother is hurting, badly, but he is alive.

“What just happened?” Magnus asks, looking puzzled at Alec’s expression. His arms are still raised above the Shadowhunter, magic wafting from his hands to Alec’s chest. “Did it start?”

“I don’t need to,” Alec says excitedly, pushing himself up from the sofa and grabbing his shirt and jacket. “I sense him. He’s on land!” It’s like he’s a complete person again, that part of him that had been missing falling into the gap it left like a perfectly fitting puzzle piece.

“What?” the warlock asks, hands dropping to his side.

“I have to go find him,” Alec replies, putting his shirt back on and shrugging into his jacket. “Thank you, Magnus!” He quickly moves around the sofa, grabbing the warlock by the face and planting a kiss right on his mouth. Magnus huffs surprised, hands coming up to hold on to Alec’s wrists. It’s really just a hard press of their lips against each other, Alec too excited and nervous, Magnus too surprised to really get into it. The warlock’s goatee drags against the soft skin on his chin and over his upper lip, but he pays it no attention. Releasing Magnus from his strong hold, he drops his hands and gives him a big smile.

“Don’t go after him yourself, Alexander,” the warlock calls when Alec moves towards the door.

He looks back over his shoulder, already shaking his head. “I won’t. I’m heading back to the Institute to get Aldertree to call off his men. Izzy and I will bring him back home.”

“Be careful!” Magnus says, prompting Alec to nod in thanks and vanish out the door.

 

///

 

Of course, his life would be so much easier if it weren’t for Clary. And Aldertree. And his mother. As soon as Alec is back in the Institute and tells Izzy to get ready, they are restrained by Aldertree’s men, with his mother just standing by and not lifting a finger to help any of her children. Lydia assures them she will try to look out for Jace and quickly goes to follow the new head of the Institute. Despite Alec’s struggles, the Shadowhunter guards won’t let them go, their fingers digging painfully into the muscles of his arms.

Izzy fights and hisses like a cat when they are escorted to Aldertree’s office and then won’t stop pacing, while Alec sits on the sofa, head in his hands. He should have gone after his brother alone, immediately after discovering his return, but now it’s too late. It doesn’t take long, and the _parabatai_ bond goes numb again. It actually feels worse than before, with Alec now knowing the physical and emotional consequences it has for him and Jace. His head already starts pounding again, and it doesn’t help that Izzy is still spewing fire behind him. Eventually, she notices his labored breathing and sits down next to him, her hand gently stroking across his heaving back.

After what feels like hours, but is probably less than 30 minutes, the door suddenly opens, and Raj pokes his head in. “You guys are free to go,” he says, looking less than pleased to be the one to release them.

“What happened?” Izzy snaps immediately, shooting up from the couch, her hand clenched tightly around Alec’s shoulder.

“Not sure. Apparently, Jocelyn located Jace and tried to take him out, but he vanished through a portal with Valentine before he got hit.” The other Shadowhunter’s voice sounds bored, almost devoid of emotion, and Alec’s jaw twitches in anger.

“What do you mean, Jocelyn tried to take him out?” Izzy asks, suddenly very quiet. Alec looks up at his sister, her fuming from earlier replaced with fear and confusion. His eyes move over to Raj, who shrugs, carefully taking a step back at the concentrated force of the Lightwoods’ gazes on him.

“There’s a dead-or-alive order out on his head, and she apparently went for the dead part of the deal.”

“But,” Izzy splutters, nails digging into Alec’s shoulder, “but she’s his mother!”

“What do I know,” Raj replies, turning back to go. “Go ask Clary, she was there.” He leaves the door open behind him, while Alec and Isabelle stare after him.

“What in the Angel’s name is going on?” she spits out after a moment of silence, taking her hand away from his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go find Clary.” She moves towards the door, stopping when he doesn’t get up to follow. “Alec?”

Alec shuts his eyes, pressing the balls of his hands against them as hard as he can, as if it would help with the numbness in his chest and the pain in his head. “I can’t,” he simply whispers, getting up from the sofa with heavy limbs. “I can’t.” Without another word, he pushes past his sister, who calls after him but doesn’t go to follow when he races down the corridor and towards the training room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking that I might post that special chapter in a separate story, but connect it to this one? Because it doesn’t really fit in anywhere and I don’t want to wait until after season 2 ends. So be on the lookout for it, I’ll let you know when that one is up.
> 
> As always, my tumblr is light-in-the-wood. xxx


	12. A Window Into the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly, 2x12 was one hell of an episode, wasn’t it? I liked it a lot, but it also made me really glad that I’m writing this fic. Because there are so many interesting things to think about, like Alec’s inner struggle and obviously that ending. Can’t wait to see where they are gonna take it next week.
> 
> So anyway, here we go again. Thank you for your lovely comments and kudos, you guys are the best. Thanks for still sticking with this story. 
> 
> The next chapter is also gonna be interesting to write, what with Alec being unconscious for most of the episode. But I kind of already have a plan how I’m gonna do it, so hang in there.
> 
> Happy reading. :)

Even though his knuckles are taped, they still hurt from where Alec had pummeled the punching bag repeatedly before Clary had interrupted him with her inane apology. It feels good to lash out at her, even though it doesn’t really help against the growing numbness in his chest. His head is back to aching, but luckily whatever Magnus had done with his magic earlier, seems to have some residual effect on helping to keep the worst pain away. However, the cloth around his hands bites the soft skin of his knuckles when he gestures at Clary, chaffing slightly after the rough treatment he has put them through.

Alec can’t stand to be in her presence any longer, so he storms from the training room, leaving the redhead to stare after him in shock. He can hear the telltale tapping of Izzy’s heels behind him, but doesn’t slow down when she calls out his name. It’s late, and after everything that has happened, he just wants to take a shower and catch a few hours of sleep. Tomorrow, he’ll go back to Magnus’ and convince him to try to track Jace through his rune once more.

“Alec, wait!” his sister calls, finally catching up with him at his bedroom door. He looks over his shoulder, turning the knob. Sighing at the expression on her face, he gestures for her to come inside, firmly closing the door behind them. Her arms are crossed and she looks put out at him, dark brows drawn together over brown eyes. “That was cruel and uncalled for.”

He leans against the wall on the right of his door and just levels her with an unimpressed look, too tired to explain himself. Part of him knows that perhaps he wasn’t being completely fair to Clary, but his brother, his _parabatai_ is missing, _again_ , and his own mother, _her_ mother, had tried to kill him.

Izzy sits down on his bed, arms still crossed over her chest. “You know this isn’t Clary’s fault.”

“I really don’t care, Iz,” Alec replies, bending down to open the laces of his boots. He toes them off and kicks them towards the sitting area to his left. “She was there and yet they let Valentine get away with Jace.”

“Come on, that’s not on Clary,” Izzy shoots back, mouth set in an angry line. “If you had actually bothered to talk to her, you would know that she only got there seconds before and then tried stopping Jocelyn immediately. Clary is pissed at her mom, too.” His sister is clearly upset, also partly on her friend’s behalf, but at the moment, Alec doesn’t want to hear any of it. Tomorrow, he might see it all differently, but tonight, he is hurting and confused and just wants to find his brother. Alec rubs at his sternum absentmindedly, as if it will bring back the feeling to his chest. He can hear the blood rushing through his ears, but tries to stand his ground, looking back at his sister defiantly.

Izzy obviously senses that tonight is not the night to talk to him and try to get him to see her side, and especially not Clary’s, so she lets out a heavy sigh and gets up from his bed. She comes to stand in front of him where he is still leaning against the wall. She places a careful hand over his own, where it is resting against his chest, right over his heart. “I know that you know, deep down, that you’re being unfair to Clary. But,” she quickly adds when he opens his mouth do contradict her, “I also know you’re hurting. So I understand you lashing out. I’m not condoning it, but I understand. And I promise you, we will find our brother, Alec. We _will_.” The last words are spoken with more conviction than Alec feels himself and his face seems to convey it, too, because Izzy squeezes his fingers tightly, dark eyes full of determination.

“Get some sleep, big brother,” she says after a moment, patting his chest once more, then letting her hand fall away. Izzy gives him a small smile that is the most tentative thing he’s seen from her in a long time, and walks out before he can even attempt to return it.

Alec stays where he is for a few more minutes, pensively staring into the distance. His mind is spinning again, thoughts of Jace, Clary, Izzy and Magnus all mingling together. He doesn’t like the fact that his sister doesn’t seem to be completely on his side, even though a small part of him can understand why that is.

Shaking himself once, Alec pushes away from the wall, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor. Making short work of the rest of his clothes and the tape around his hands, he moves into the bathroom and steps into the shower. Turning the water to nearly boiling level, he sticks his head under the spray, his wet hair falling into his eyes. Alec leans an arm against the wall and puts his forehead against it, closing his eyes. The water beats down on his shoulders, relaxing the tension there incrementally. His head still hurts and the numbness lingers in his chest, but the scalding water lets him focus on something else for the time being.

Eventually, a gurgling sound comes from the pipes and the shower starts to run cold. Reaching for his shampoo, Alec quickly washes his hair, soaps up and rinses his body and steps out of the stall just when the water reaches freezing levels. He shivers slightly, dripping all over the floor and quickly picks up a towel to dry himself off. The methodical movements almost lull him in and he can’t quite suppress a yawn fighting its way out of his mouth. Hanging the towel over a rack, Alec moves to the sink to brush his teeth. A look in the mirror tells him that he will need a shave tomorrow, a dark shadow already dusting his jaw and chin. Finishing up in the bathroom, he walks back into his bedroom and pulls a shirt and track pants from his drawers. The shirt is old and faded from too many rounds in the washer and it has a hole at the hem. But it’s still kind of soft and smells of Izzy’s favorite detergent, so he slips it over his head and steps into his pants. Collecting his discarded clothes from earlier, he dumps them all in the hamper and finally goes to lie down on his bed. His phone is on the bedside table from where he had put it earlier, and he stretches an arm out to grab it. There is an unread message from Magnus from about an hour ago.

_Did you find Jace? Text me and tell me you’re okay. xoxo Magnus_

Alec can’t help but smile at the warlock’s worry, though the thought of Jace quickly wipes it from his face again. Blinking tiredly a few times, he raises the phone over his head, typing out a quick message to Magnus.

_We didn’t. Aldertree had us detained and Valentine got away with him._

He debates adding the fact that his own mother had had her hands in it as well, and that Jocelyn had tried to shoot Jace, but he decides against it in the end. It’s too late to have the discussion that would surely follow at this hour of the night.

_I am sorry to hear that. That Aldertree character really has some annoying habits of interfering in other people’s business,_ comes the almost immediate reply.

Alec snorts, nodding emphatically. _You have no idea_ , he types out.

_What are you going to do know?_

He chews on his lower lip in thought, really not knowing how to answer Magnus’ question. Alec doesn’t want to bring up the rune tracking issue again, because he knows how the warlock thinks about it. Even though Alec had apologized and the Magnus had agreed to help him earlier this evening, he knows the other man still doesn’t think it is a good idea.

In the end, he takes so long to think about a reply that his phone suddenly starts vibrating in his hand. “Hey,” Alec says quietly when he picks up.

“Please tell me you’re not planning on doing anything stupid, Alexander,” Magnus’ voice comes through the speaker.

Alec rubs a tired hand over his face and turns to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not,” he replies. “I just… Magnus, I don’t know what to do.” His voice cracks at the end, and he claps a hand over his face, eyes burning.

He can hear Magnus’ breathing at the other end of the line, a slight hitch in his long sigh. “Oh Alec…” Alec’s heart almost breaks at the sadness in the warlock’s voice and he clenches his jaw against the sob threatening to force its way out. “Do you want me to come over?”

Not quite trusting his voice, Alec shakes his head, but then quickly realizes that Magnus obviously can’t see that. “No,” he croaks out eventually. “No, I… I’m okay. I just… I just need him back.”

“I know, Alexander,” Magnus replies softly. “We will find him, I promise. And besides, Jace is tough. He won’t let Valentine break him.”

Alec opens his eyes again, tears running down his temple and into his hair. “Yeah, he’s strong.” And it’s true, Jace is one of the strongest people he knows. But Alec is also aware of the effect parents can have on their kids, especially someone as manipulative and abusive as Valentine. Jace has never liked to talk about what ‘Michael Wayland’ had been like as a father, but from what he remembers his brother actually sharing, it doesn’t bode well for him. Alec is used to tough parents, strict rules and nearly impossible expectations, and yet neither his mother nor his father had ever been quite this harsh with him. At least not all of the time. Alec particularly recalls a story Jace had told him once, about a falcon his father had given him for his birthday, and how he had killed the bird when Jace had failed to train him like the bird of prey he was.

“Alexander?” Magnus’ voice cuts through his thoughts, bringing Alec back to the present. His heart does a painful jump in his chest and he fists a hand in his shirt, just to have something to hold on to.

“I’m here,” he says, but it comes out more like a whisper.

“Alec,” Magnus says softly, “are you sure I shouldn’t come over?”

Part of Alec wants to tell Magnus to come right away, but he knows that he shouldn’t. He can’t. He can’t let himself be close to Magnus now, when his brother is out there with that crazy lunatic, in God knows what kind of danger. Alec doesn’t deserve to hold Magnus or be held by him, even though his heart yearns for it now more than ever. “I’m fine,” he says, though it sounds unconvincing even to his own ears. “I just need some sleep.”

He can hear Magnus sigh on the other end, clearly not convinced in the slightest. But it seems he knows Alec well enough to know when not to pressure him into something, even if it’s for his own good. “I’m sure you do. I won’t keep you, then.”

Alec doesn’t really want to hang up, keeping a tight grip on the phone in his hand, where it is still pressed against his ear. He just listens to Magnus’ breathing, trying to imagine the warlock lounging on his couch or standing on his balcony, overlooking the city towards Manhattan, where Alec is in his room in the Institute. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and whispers: “Goodnight, Magnus. And thank you.”

He can practically hear the other man’s smile as he replies: “There’s nothing to thank me for, but you’re welcome.” There is a slight pause, as if both men are waiting for the other one to hang up. “Sweet dreams, my Alexander,” Magnus finally says, voice quiet and full of warmth. A shiver runs through Alec’s body at the soft use of his name and he can’t help but smile. His skin is tingling and he briefly closes his eyes to bask in that one small moment of peace, all the aches in his body and mind forgotten.

“Goodnight,” he repeats in a whisper, then takes the phone away from his face and presses the end-call button. The screen goes black and he stretches his arm out to put the device down on his bedside table. Switching off the light, he turns on his stomach and burrows his head under the pillows. Although he can’t stop his mind from circling back to the thoughts plaguing him since Jace’s disappearance, he quickly falls into a sleep full of glitter, dark eyes and blue magic.

 

///

 

It’s early when Alec wakes up, the sky still dark outside his window. He yawns and briefly considers turning around and going back to sleep, but then the memories start flooding in and he sits up quickly. Dragging himself from his bed and to his bathroom, he gives his face a perfunctory shave and wash. After getting dressed, he is just leaving his room to start the day, when he crosses paths with Lydia on his way to the kitchen. They haven’t really had time to talk since Jace had gone missing, so he raises a hand in greeting.

“Good morning,” Alec says, moving closer.

Lydia looks up from the file she’s holding and gives him a warm smile when she realizes it’s him. “Good morning, Alec.”

“I’ve been meaning to apologize for snapping at you the other day,” he begins, but she raises a hand to cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for dismissing you like that. I know it can’t be easy for you, what with Jace missing. And now that Victor has taken over…” Her voice trails off, but the peeved look on her face speaks volumes. “I’m also sorry for not stopping him yesterday.”

Alec waves her off, brows drawn together. “That wasn’t your fault. And it’s not like you could have done anything. My mother seemed pretty clear on who’s in charge now.” Thinking about how she hadn’t lifted a finger to stop Aldertree detaining him and Izzy makes him bristle again. “Where is she, anyway?” He hasn’t seen Maryse since she had gone after Jace last night.

Lydia looks surprised, clasping the file she’s holding close to her chest. “Oh, I would have thought she’d tell you. There was a message very late last night from the Clave, demanding her immediate return. Now that Victor is officially the new head of the Institute, they figured Maryse’s presence was better served in Idris.”

It figures, Alec thinks, that she wouldn’t even bother to inform him or Isabelle of her departure. Then again, he’s not too sorry she’s gone. After seeing how she had talked about Jace, he is glad that he only has to deal with Aldertree now, and not constantly look over his shoulder for his mother as well. “I’m sure she’ll send a message,” he says carefully, giving Lydia a tense smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

She is about to say something, when she is interrupted by a young Shadowhunter rushing towards them. “Ms. Branwell, Director Aldertree needs to speak with you,” he says, slightly out of breath.

Lydia narrows her eyes at him, but gives Alec an apologetic shrug. “I’d better go see what’s up.” He nods and watches her make her way down the corridor towards Aldertree’s office.

Alec hesitates a moment, wondering if he should go to the ops center right away, then decides to head for the kitchen first, after all. His stomach is growling and it’s been a while since he’s had time to actually eat some breakfast. With all the late nights and early mornings, it’s mostly his stamina rune that keeps him going. There’s not really time to enjoy a lengthy meal in the times they are living in right now.

He finds Izzy in the kitchen, sitting at a table, chin resting on her raised fist, lazily stirring in the coffee mug in front of her. She looks up when he walks in and smiles. “Good morning, big brother.”

Alec returns the smile and leans in to kiss the top of her head. Their disagreement from last night forgotten, he helps himself to some cereal and a coffee of his own. They sit together in comfortable silence, both sipping their drinks, but eventually Alec puts his mug down and levels his sister with a serious look. “I’m sorry how I reacted last night.”

Izzy looks up at him, her expression first surprised, then morphing into something soft. “It’s okay, big brother. I know you’re going through a lot.” She reaches across the table and puts her hand on his forearm. “But I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Alec knows she’s talking about Clary, but at this point, he is still too worked up about her involvement in letting Jace and Valentine get away and Jocelyn almost killing his brother. Nevertheless, he nods at his sister, who smirks, leaning back in her chair, obviously placated enough. For now.

“Alec, Isabelle,” a voice calls from the door, making both Lightwoods turn around. Raj is standing there, beckoning them to follow him with a quick wave of his hand. “Meeting in the ops center. Something about mundanes being taken by the Circle.” Alec and Izzy immediately get to their feet, all thoughts of a peaceful breakfast flying from their minds.

The briefing is short and Lydia quickly delegates each group of Shadowhunters to a different part of the city in search of Valentine’s men. After a look at the bummed-out Clary, Izzy tells him to wait for her at the entrance, while he goes to thank Lydia for speaking up for him towards Aldertree. It hasn’t passed Alec by that the older Shadowhunter would much rather bench him and his sister for being too close to the whole thing, but Lydia has told him in no uncertain terms that they are amongst the best out there and therefore needed in the field. She waves him off and hands him their assignment. Apparently, their first stop is a backdoor sort of gym, where fighters beat each other up in illegal matches.

Izzy eventually joins him outside and they take off towards the city. “So,” she asks after a while, when they’re nearing the first location, “what kind of dojo is this?”

Alec snorts, remembering what Lydia had said. “It’s not really an official studio. More like bulky men with too much aggression beating each other to a pulp for fun. And money.” He will never get some mundanes’ enjoyment of violence just for the heck of it. “I don’t understand what Valentine would want with these meatheads anyway. It’s not like they’ll just blindly follow orders, if they already do illegal stuff like this now. Try to imagine them with Angelic powers.”

Izzy snickers at the look on his face and pats his elbow. “Only you would worry about things like that. Let’s just go wait and see.”

When they finally arrive at the literal backdoor to an unassuming warehouse, two bulky guys are already engaged in a brutal looking fist fight. There are a number of people around, mostly men, watching and cheering the fighters on. Alec and Izzy stay in the background for now, not wanting to draw too much attention in case Valentine’s men are already here. Their invisibility runes are not activated, and Alec feels uncomfortable. It’s not often he has to walk into a room full of mundanes with no rune power to hide him. He can take his fellow Shadowhunters, at least on most days, but humans usually rub him up the wrong way. He can’t quite put his finger on why he doesn’t like to be amongst them for a prolonged period of time, only that it makes his stomach churn.

The bald guy in the ring swings a well-aimed blow at his opponent, sending him sprawling to the ground. His arms are thicker than Alec’s legs and a huge tattoo covers his left arm. The fight is obviously over, and people are congratulating the winner.

“You got some moves,” Izzy calls out, hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

The guy looks over at them, his eyes falling on Isabelle and raking up and down her body. “Yeah?” he leers, stepping closer. “How about I take you home and show you some of those moves, up close and personal?”

Izzy grins, while Alec forces himself not to punch him in the throat immediately. It’s not like he doesn’t know his sister can’t defend herself, she could kick anybody’s ass if she wanted to, but he’s already let one sibling down, he’s not about to repeat that. “That’s funny,” Alec says, his voice clearly disproving his words. His lips stretch into a forced, slightly ironic smile. “You really think you have a chance with her?”

The man’s eyes move away from Izzy and towards him. “And who are you?” he asks, giving Alec a quick and unimpressed once over.

Usually, his height is intimidating to people, especially mundanes, but not only is this guy nearly as tall as him, but he is at least twice Alec’s size. “I’m the guy who’s gonna put you down if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“Why don’t you come up and try, pretty boy?” The guy takes a step towards him and Alec’s smile drops. It’s not just the need to put this guy in his place and preferably hurt him in the process, but his use of those words also turn Alec’s stomach upside down. The last time someone had called him that, in fact the _only_ time someone had used those words, it had been said in earnest. Magnus had actually meant it, even though it is still hard for Alec to believe it.

He moves forward, but Izzy stops him with a hand to his chest. “I got this,” she says, looking up at him with a reassuring smirk. He lets her push him back, eyes still trained on the burly mountain of meat in front of them.

Alec revels in his sister beating the guy to a pulp in under a minute, arms crossed over his chest and grinning from ear to ear. A few well-aimed kicks and one final punch, and he goes down like a ton of bricks. It’s obvious that he hadn’t expected Izzy to be this strong. And he would’ve had been right, if she had been a mundane. As it is, he is quickly dragged off by his friends and the crowd disperses soon after that. No one is brave enough to approach either of them, so they take the opportunity to disguise Izzy as one of the fighters and wait for Valentine’s men to turn up.

When a Circle member eventually does, they can’t act fast enough, before he slits his throat right in front of them when he realizes he’s outnumbered. Alec wants to punch the wall in frustration, and he almost does, but Izzy grabs his arm and yanks him around to face her.

“Hey,” she says, her knitted brows betraying the forced calmness of her voice, “look at me. It’s okay.”

He stares down at her, those dark eyes that he’s known for as long as he can remember looking up at him soothingly. “It’s not okay, Iz.”

Her face scrunches up and she let’s go of his arm. “Don’t give up on me now, Alec.”

Alec runs a hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the Circle member’s body. Then he takes out his phone and shoots a text off to Lydia, telling her what has happened. Someone needs to deal with the body, after all.

Izzy follows him out of the gym, her heels clicking rapidly from her trying to keep up with his long strides. “Aldertree’s strategy isn’t working,” he says, when they turn the corner to the main street.

“We’ve only been to one gym so far. We have to be patient,” Izzy replies, but even she sounds slightly doubtful.

“The Circle members all took the same oath,” Alec counters. “They’ll keep slitting their throats before they tell us anything.” And part of him knows that it’s not just Circle members, but Shadowhunters in general. It’s in their nature, the nature of their culture, to put their missions before their own lives.

“Do you have any other ideas?” his sister asks, her hair bouncing on her shoulders.

“Put in a request for a maritime mission? Take out a vessel ourselves?” Those are all better options to locate Jace. They can’t just keep sitting around, not trying to find the ship and his brother on it.

“Alec, the ship is glamoured. It won’t show up on the sonar,” Izzy replies, but it’s not as if he doesn’t know that.

“Well, it can’t hide from us if we run right into it.”

Izzy smirks. “It’s a pretty big ocean out there. Look,” she says, holding out a hand to stop him, “you know he’s not hurt. Otherwise you would have felt something, right?”

Alec looks up over her head, squinting his eyes against the sun. His chest is still numb and his head is aching, but the bond remains quiet and empty inside of him. “I don’t feel anything, Izzy,” he says quietly. “That’s what scares me.” He turns his head away, gazing towards the direction he knows the Hudson river lies in.

“How is your head?” Izzy asks after a moment, trying to catch his eyes.

Alec raises a hand to rub at his temple subconsciously, his head still throbbing like someone has slammed it into a wall. “I’m fine,” he replies eventually, knowing she won’t buy it.

As expected, Izzy raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. “Come one, Alec, you have to let me in.”

He looks back at her and feels a slight pinch in his heart at her pleading expression. He knows she’s only trying to help him, but sometimes he doesn’t know how to let her close. And it’s not like she can do anything in this situation now, anyway. “Let’s just get back to the Institute. We have to find another way of locating Jace.” His thoughts wander back to Magnus and how me might have to go back there tonight to try the rune tracking again after all.

Izzy rolls her eyes and sighs, but doesn’t argue on their way back. They keep discussing different methods, but it quickly becomes clear that there are no real alternatives of finding that ship with their brother on it.

When they make their way to the ops center, Alec considers looking from the air, instead of trying to use sonar. “We should look at the aerial drones,” he suggests, sighing. His head is killing him again and he feels faintly sick.

“We’ve already done that,” Izzy remarks as they pass the operation room and walk across the glass platform towards the corridor.

“So we do it again. Maybe we didn’t look close enough.”

“Alec, I know you’re upset, but this is just- “

“You don’t know, Izzy!” Alec cuts her off, voice rising slightly. Sighing heavily and closing his eyes, he stops and puts a hand out against a wall to steady himself. The nausea has returned full force and his mouth feels dry. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to keep the bile from rising in his throat. “I need him,” he admits quietly, looking over at his sister.

Her face is grave and she watches him with pity. “I know.”

The air hisses through his teeth when Alec breathes in, but he stands up straight again and keeps walking.

“Alec, Isabelle!” a familiar voice suddenly calls out behind them and they stop to turn around. Jocelyn is right behind them, holding up a small rune stone in her hand. “I have a way.”

“How did you get that?” Izzy asks incredulous, eying up the stone in the older redhead’s palm. “Only the Iron Sisters have access to _adamas_.”

For a second, Alec is transported back to a time years ago, when eleven-year-old Izzy had declared to their parents that one day, she would join the Iron Sisters. Jace had started laughing, saying that she would never manage to not get interested in boys, earning him a scolding from their mother. Max, only two at the time, had immediately started crying, thinking his sister was going to leave them right there and then. Robert had been supportive, but Maryse had shared thirteen-year-old Jace’s disbelieve that Izzy would have what it took to become one of the fiercest group of female Shadowhunters out there. Alec had just looked at his sister, had seen the stormy determination in her dark eyes, and he’d known that she would make a great Iron Sister one day. Those days had now been long gone, Izzy eventually realizing that she did indeed like boys too much, but in his heart Alec knows that part of her still longs for it from time to time, wondering what could have been.

“Luke’s mother is an Iron Sister,” Jocelyn explains, her face serious. “She told him about an ancient way to communicate through the _parabatai_ bond. Through your linked spirits.” She looks at Alec at those last words.

“Oh, I see,” he counters skeptically. “So you want me to help you find my brother so you can try and kill him again?” He doesn’t even wait for a reply and just turns on his heels to leave. His head is throbbing and the nausea still grumbles in his stomach, but he is not going to let this woman use him to get to Jace.

“No,” she calls out, following him down the corridor. “I want to find Clary. She was kidnapped by Dot.” Alec clenches his jaw in annoyance. Of course the redhead had gone out and gotten herself into trouble. Again. “Valentine must be behind this,” Jocelyn goes on.

“Why should we trust you?” Alec asks, glad that despite her slight flinch at the news of Clary’s abduction, Izzy is staying right by his side.

“Look, I know how much your brother means to you. And Clary means just as much to me. And I will do anything to get her back.” She sounds sincere, but it’s still strange for Alec to think that here Jocelyn is, clearly desperate to get her daughter back, but not even wasting a second to think about her son. He knows she has tried to kill him before, but a part of him still has a hard time believing a mother would actually want her child dead. Apparently, he had been wrong.

Izzy turns to look up at him, her face serious. “What other choice do we have?”

Alec has no reply to her question, so he just casts his gaze over Jocelyn. His eyes fall back on the rune stone and the _parabatai_ mark engraved into it. They have exhausted every and all possibilities Alec can think of, and nothing can help find Jace.

“Let’s do it,” he finally says, both women looking partly surprised as well as relieved at his decision.

“We should probably get somewhere private and more comfortable. You’re going to have to lie down for this,” Jocelyn explains, so Alec beckons them to follow him. They make their way back to his room in silence, though he can feel the tension buzzing off Izzy in waves.

Once they are all inside his bedroom with the door firmly closed, he toes off his shoes and goes to lie on the bed. Jocelyn directs him to take off his shirt as well, so as not to block the _parabatai_ rune on his body from any outward interferences.

Izzy takes the shirt from him and folds it neatly, putting it down on his dresser. She takes her jacket off as well, then turns back to Jocelyn. “If Luke’s had the stone all along, why didn’t he say anything when Jace first went missing?”

Alec closes his eyes and leans his head back against the headrest. The position he’s in doesn’t exactly help his nausea, but he tries to keep his mind focused on what’s going on.

“I’ll be honest. There are some serious risks involved,” Jocelyn admits after a moment’s hesitation. She turns back to look at Izzy.

“What kind of risks?” Alec can hear his sister ask.

“The _parabatai_ that initiates the contact,” she explains, casting her eyes over to Alec, who is looking up at her now, “it can be taxing on his body. On his mind.”

“Izzy, it’s fine,” Alec cuts in.

“I’m not liking the sound of this,” his sister replies, not moving from her position next to his bed. “Taxing how?”

Jocelyn is silent, brows drawn together. “We’re not sure,” she says finally. “Of the few people who have tried it, not many have come back to talk about it.”

Before Alec can say anything, or even form a coherent thought about what he’s just heard, his sister jumps in. “Forget it. He’s not doing it!”

“Don’t listen to her,” Alec cuts in quickly.

Izzy turns around, her hair whipping over her shoulder. “No, Alec,” she says, face and voice more serious than he’s ever seen her. “I’ve already lost both parents to Idris and a brother to Valentine. I’m not gonna lose you, too.”

Alec sits up in bed, looking at his sister’s desperate expression. He knows she’s scared, even though she tries to hide it. But if they can find Jace this way, he is willing to take the risk. He knows there are no other options left and he can’t stand the thought of his brother being in the hands of that monster for even one more day. If there is a way for Alec to find him, even if it means gambling with his own life, then he is bloody well going to do it. Jace would do it for him.

“Izzy, you said it yourself,” he addresses his sister after a moment. “We have no choice.”

“That was before I knew you could die,” she replies quietly. “No. Get up!”

Alec stares at the ceiling for a second, then leans forward, desperate to make her understand. “He needs me, Iz. And I can’t…” He breaks off, taking a deep breath. “I can’t live without him.”

They stare at each other, neither willing to budge on their position. Alec leans back against the headboard, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs, breathing deeply against the rising nausea. “Let’s do this.”

Izzy swallows, tears glistening in her eyes, but he can see on her face that she won’t argue with him again. She steps closer and sits down at the edge of his bed. Alec moves into a more comfortable position and stretches out, head cushioned on his pillow. He crosses his arms over his abdomen and Izzy puts her hand on his forearm.

Jocelyn walks around to his other side, also sitting down next to him. “According to Luke, you need to stay near the surface. If you go to deep, nothing can bring you back.”

Alec nods in understanding, directing his gaze towards the ceiling.

“If you go too deep, by the Angel, Alec, I will kick your ass when you get back,” Izzy says, her voice wavering. He looks at her for a moment, taking in his sister’s terrified expression.

“Give me the stone,” Alec eventually says, holding out a hand towards Jocelyn. She places it in his palm, giving his fingers a slight pat. He holds the _adamas_ closer to his face and the _parabatai_ rune begins to glow golden. He closes his fist around it and directs his mind inward, towards the bond. Banishing all thoughts from his mind, he focuses on his brother, trying to find that connection that has bound them together since they were 16 years old. Closing is eyes and inhaling deeply, he takes the stone between both hands, feeling the magic pulse beneath his fingers. It grows warmer in his tight grip and Alec can feel the _parabatai_ rune on his body pulse in the same beat.

Suddenly, flashes start to appear in front of his inner eye, of blond hair, mismatched eyes and a cocky smile. He can feel the numbness in his chest retreat, as the bond grows stronger. Alec can’t quite hold on to the image of Jace in his mind, so he goes deeper into himself, following the emptiness of their link towards the other side.

His body begins to twitch, making him pinch his eyes together, but the image of Jace becomes clearer. He can see him move, a Seraph blade brandished in his hand. He is fighting. He’s on a ship. Alec can see it now, much more clearly, if he could just get a little further… But suddenly, a sharp pain courses through his him, making his body arch off the bed. All he can see is Jace, his worried eyes. He sees Jace as a child, when they had first met, face still so young and innocent. Alec reaches out with his mind, yelling his brother’s name. But then he’s falling, falling, falling, tumbling down an endless abyss. Everything goes dark and then there is nothing.

“ _Alec_!”

 

///

 

After Simon finally leaves, Magnus moves towards his bedroom, desperate to wash away the sweat and stink from Agra. He loves the city, he really does, but it’s just unbearably hot this time of year.

Standing under the spray, he tries not to think about the dagger in his living room. It’s been so long since he had last seen it and he wonders how it even got into Camille’s possession. Part of him is impressed at her resourcefulness, but another, older and bigger one, is just in pain. He’s spent literally centuries trying to keep these emotions and memories at bay and he is not willing to relive those painful moments from his past now.

Stepping out of the shower after what feels like hours, he debates slipping into pajamas right away, when he hears the insistent buzzing of his silenced phone. It moves across the dresser where he had put it before going into the bathroom, vibrating loudly in the silence of his empty loft.

Just as he moves to pick it up, the phone goes quiet. A look at the screen reveals six missed calls in absence. Six? What the hell is going on? He checks the caller ID and sees that all calls had been made by Isabelle in the last 20 minutes. Magnus mouth runs dry, a lump forming in his throat. His heartrate picks up and he swallows. With an uneasy feeling in his gut, he presses the call button and holds the phone to his ears.

Isabelle picks up after the first ring. “Magnus, thank the Angel!” she cries, her voice shaking.

“What happened?” he asks, the question nothing more than a whisper. His mind is spinning, conjuring up all kinds of different scenarios. None of them are good.

Isabelle takes a deep, shaky breath and then says something Magnus had been praying wouldn’t fall from her lips: “It’s Alec.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, that body-swap still has me reeling. But I honestly can’t wait to see what the repercussions are and how it will affect Malec. I’m expecting so many feels, oh my. But they better come out stronger together at the end, otherwise I’m gonna flip some tables.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr at light-in-the-wood. xxx


	13. Shadowhunter Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, that episode. Pffffuuuh. Okay, I’m back. This one is a bit different, obviously, given the nature of Alec’s lack of consciousness throughout. So hello there Magnus. Let’s delve into your head a bit more, my dear High Warlock.
> 
> Anyway, this is my take on it, I thought it was gonna be shorter, because I’m still not 100% sure about Magnus’ perspective. Please let me know what you think. All your comments are always greatly appreciated and I read them all with heart-eyes. 
> 
> Btw, 2x13 was solid, a really important episode. Definitely not enough Malec for my taste, but some great taking-off points for this story. So yay!
> 
> Enjoy!

_A flying arrow. Breath heavy and hot on skin. Straining muscles. A thump of metal against wood. Golden hair. Shimmering sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows. Mismatched eyes and an easy smile._ It’s all about confidence _. A blade sailing through the air. Bullseye._

///

 

Isabelle gives him permission to enter the Institute, so Magnus dresses quickly and conjures up a portal with trembling hands. His heart hammers in his chest when he steps through, and his palms feel cold where they are balled into fists at his sides. It only takes him a few seconds and then he pops out in a corridor on the other side. Casting a glance around, he notices that he has overshot Alec’s room by a few feet, probably due to the nervous energy thrumming through his veins. He turns on his heels, making a beeline for the wooden door he already knows so well and doesn’t bother knocking before striding in.

Isabelle looks up from where she is perched on her brother’s bed, holding his limp hand tightly between her smaller ones. Her dark eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, but her face brightens somewhat when she sees him. “Magnus, thank the Angel!”

He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Alec, paler than he’s ever seen him, lying motionless on the bed. To the trained eye, and Magnus certainly has one after the centuries he’s spend living and working in this world, it’s obvious the young Shadowhunter isn’t simply sleeping. His eyelids twitch, as do the small muscles of his face, and there are residual traces of blood under his nose. His full lips keep moving, as if he’s mumbling something under his breath. The dark runes adorning his upper body and arms stand into even starker contrast to his pallid skin, a fine sheen of sweat spread across his chest and face.

Magnus shakes his head once and then takes a few determined steps into the room, crouching down next to Isabelle in front of the bed. He forces himself to ignore the painful stab to his heart at the sight of Alec and switches into High Warlock mode. He extends both hands over the other man’s body, magic cursing through his fingers and enveloping Alec in a soft, blue light. He can feel the power behind it, the way it rushes to his head and presses against the back of his eyes. The need to drop the glamour on them is as strong as it always is when he uses an excessive amount of magic, but he is aware of Isabelle’s presence, so he reigns those feelings in and keeps them hidden. It’s not that he thinks she’ll react badly, she’s too focused on her unconscious brother right now anyway, but he doesn’t want to test a Shadowhunter’s innate wariness when it comes to warlock marks, especially not when emotions already run high.

“Tell me again what happened,” he says quietly, sending his magic deep inside Alec’s body to find the cause of his coma.

Isabelle takes a shaky breath and recounts, as she had already explained on the phone earlier, how they had tried to find Jace through the help of a _parabatai_ rune stone and how Jocelyn had warned him of going too deep. “I think he found Jace at the end, but that’s when he slipped and blood started running from his nose,” Isabelle replies, rubbing her hands over Alec’s slack fingers. “I tried calling out to him, but he wouldn’t respond to anything. Jocelyn went to call Luke, in case he had any other ideas.” Magnus only hums, her words cutting through his concentration. “Is he gonna be okay?” It’s nothing more than a whisper, her eyes boring into the side of his head.

He looks at her, briefly, and then sighs. “I don’t know, love.” And he doesn’t, even though he wants nothing more than to tell Isabelle that her brother will be just fine and open his eyes in a few minutes. But _parabatai_ bonds are difficult to deal with, any complications nearly impossible to predict. Even with his years of experience in working with and for Shadowhunters, he has never come across a situation like this.

Alec suddenly begins to shake, his whole body wrecked by tremors. His teeth clack together, and his limbs flail around, nearly hitting Isabelle in the face. Magnus stops the flow of magic and almost throws himself on Alec, pinning his body to the bed. His own arms and shoulders are slightly broader than the Shadowhunter’s, but Alec is longer. Isabelle catches on quickly and grabs his legs, leaning on them with her whole weight. Magnus puts his hands on Alec’s face, tilting his head up, and presses his mouth open with his thumbs so he doesn’t bite his own tongue. The fit only lasts about ten seconds, but they are both breathing heavily afterwards, only hesitatingly letting go of Alec. There are goosebumps all over his body and he is shivering slightly.

“I think he’s cold,” Magnus says, laying a hand to his forehead. His skin feels feverish and sweaty, but his naked chest is cool to the touch. Isabelle gets up from the bed and moves towards the dresser, drawing out a dark shirt and handing it to Magnus. With the snap of his fingers, the young Shadowhunter is dressed and the shivering soon stops.

Isabelle sits back down, while Magnus resumes his spell. He quickly loses track of time, energy pulsing through his body, blue magic sparking in the charged air around them. He can sense the _parabatai_ bond inside of Alec, but as is the issue with Angelic powers, he has trouble locating the source for Alec’s unresponsiveness. It’s seems much more likely that calling out to Jace through their bond has caused his soul to be stuck somewhere in limbo, not knowing which way to turn.

“It’s not working,” Isabelle says after what feels like hours, but are probably not more than twenty minutes.

Magnus grunts, annoyed, fingers snapping back. “I’m sorry, Isabelle.” He shakes his head once, raising his hands again, and summons all the healing powers he has accumulated throughout his long life. “ _Parabatai_ bonds are like a tether that binds two souls. Jace and Alec share emotions, instincts, strength. It’s an Angelic bond. My magic can only do so much.” Saying it out loud sends a shooting pain through his heart. Magnus knows that his powers, as vast as they are, have their limits when it comes to the Angel’s bloodline.

“So Jace is like this, too?” Isabelle asks, looking at him worried.

Magnus drops his hands once more, sighing. “Not necessarily.” He rolls up his sleeves, sweat beginning to form on his forehead from the exertion. “It appears that when Alec called out to him, part of his soul never returned. Now he’s stuck, lost somewhere between himself and his _parabatai_.”

Alec’s head moves when the blue magic hits his face and Magnus gentles his movements. He knows it doesn’t hurt, can’t hurt really, but he also isn’t sure what Alec is aware of at the moment. He doesn’t seem to be able to hear them, but Magnus has heard plenty of stories of people being aware of everything happening around them while in a coma.

“But if Jace brought back that missing piece of his soul…” Isabelle begins, her voice trailing off.

“We may very well have the cure,” Magnus agrees. He can see the hope in her eyes, but doesn’t dare to follow suit. They still don’t know where the blond Shadowhunter is and time is running out. “Whatever we do, we need to do it quickly.” The longer Alec remains like this, the unlikelier it is that he’ll wake up.

“Stay with Alec,” Isabelle says, determination radiating off her body. “I’ll go find Jace.”

Magnus doesn’t question how she is going to do that, as they have been unsuccessfully trying to locate him for the last three days. But he has more important things to worry about at the moment, like keeping Alec’s life force alive.

Isabelle gives him a quick nod and then rushes from the room. Magnus turns back to Alec and sends another wave of healing magic through his body. The young Shadowhunter keeps twitching and every movement sends a slight thrill through the warlock’s body, until his hopes are quickly dashed by Alec’s lack of response.

Magnus sits down on the bed, resting his powers for a moment, and reaches a hand out towards Alec’s face. He hovers over it for a moment, hesitating, then strokes the messy strands of hair out of his face. Alec twitches again and Magnus briefly closes his eyes, willing the young man to wake up. “Stupid Nephilim,” he mutters not unkindly, leaning forward to place a kiss on Alec’s sweaty forehead. “Why didn’t you come to me first?” He strokes a hand over his cheeks and down his jaw, a sad smile on his face. His thumb catches against the beginnings of a stubble and for a second, he wonders how Alec might look with a full-grown beard.

An insistent knocking from the door makes him look up. “Isabelle?” he hears a familiar voice call out from the corridor. “Clary’s back.”

Magnus’ face twists in anger and he gets up to open the door. “Oh, great,” he says, sarcasm dripping from every pore as he faces Jocelyn, who looks at him surprised. “Clary’s safe. We can all go home now.”

He moves to close the door in her face, but she slams her hand against it to stop him. “Whoa, wait, Magnus!” Her gaze flickers past him to where Alec is laying on the bed. “How is Alec? Is he gonna be okay?”

Magnus’ eyes automatically flash towards the unconscious Shadowhunter, but then he steps forward, forcing Jocelyn away from the door. A part of him doesn’t want her anywhere near Alec, blaming her for having brought the _adamas_ stone to the Institute in the first place. “Do you remember the first thing I said to you when you brought a frightened six-year-old girl to my door?”

Jocelyn raises her chin, clearly remembering that day, twelve years ago, when she had turned up on his doorstep, bringing all the baggage Magnus had tried to avoid for decades with her. “You didn’t want to get involved in Shadowhunter business,” she admits quietly, not looking away from his intense gaze.

“And I should’ve stuck to my guns,” he retorts, brows drawn together in anger. “But no, I let you convince me. How many years of memory wipes was it?”

The redhead lowers her gaze, clearly hurt at his harsh reaction. “Twelve.” Magnus’ jaw clenches. He can see Clary’s face in front of him, still so innocent and young back then, her green eyes full of fear and confusion about what was going on. She had been the first and only child he had seen grow up over the years. Although he considers all Downworlders he takes under his wing as his children, they are all technically adults, at least in years spent on this Earth. “Look, I owe you,” Jocelyn goes on, gesturing towards the room. “Let me help with Alec.”

“I think you’ve done enough,” Magnus says, throwing a hand out to stop her from coming inside. He is not going to let her anywhere near him again. Ever.

“I was only trying to find- “

“You were only trying to do what you always do,” he interrupts her. He is tired of her excuses, and the fear for Alec nagging at the back of his mind makes him lash out against all those he holds responsible, justified or not. “Manipulate people into helping fix problems that _you_ created. And now Alec is paying the price for it.”

He can see tears glistening in her eyes as she timidly says: “That’s not true.”

“Then prove me wrong.” Not waiting for a reply, he turns around, slamming the door shut with a snap and flick of his hand. He moves back towards Alec’s bed, casting his eyes over the other man’s still body.

Normally, the young Shadowhunter brims with barely contained energy and strength, but now he just lies there, ghostly pale and still, aside from an occasional twitch. When Alec is not paying attention to how others might perceive him, there is also something vulnerable to him, about the way he looks at Magnus or subconsciously seeks reassurance from his sister or _parabatai_. He doesn’t let a lot of people close enough to see, barely even showing that hidden side to his siblings. To almost everyone else, even his parents, Alec is the stoic, steel-hearted warrior, the born soldier and leader. But there is so much more to him that Magnus wishes the world would be tolerant enough to accept and even welcome with open arms.

It has taken Magnus a lot of time and effort to get Alec to open up to him a bit more. He thinks back to the day they met and how he had sensed Alec’s interest, despite his apparent lack of experience. But given the way he had been raised, it hadn’t been easy to find a chink in the armor and wiggle his way inside. With Alec, it had been a constant push and pull, the young Shadowhunter not knowing how to deal with those feelings suddenly threatening to turn his whole word upside down. Part of Magnus had wondered if he had pushed too hard when Alec had come to him on the day of his wedding. And even though it had turned out fine in the end, more than fine actually, he knows that there is still a part of Alec that is hidden to him, carefully and cautiously tucked away behind that broad chest and dark-haired head.

Alec starts twitching again, so Magnus quickly moves back to his side, laying a calming hand in the center of the Shadowhunter’s chest. He can feel Alec’s accelerated heartrate through the soft fabric of his shirt, and rubs soothing circles over his upper body, from collar bone to sternum and back.

Alec eventually seems to settle again, although his eyes are moving rapidly below his closed lids. Magnus waits a moment longer, then conjures up some equipment for a potion from the loft with a snap of his fingers. It will not cure Alec’s coma, but it might help with stabilizing his condition. It’s an old recipe Catarina had given him a few decades ago, back when he had been living and working in London.

Just as he is squelching some herbs, the bedroom door opens once more. Isabelle is standing in the doorframe and he can see Clary behind her, red hair pulled into a high ponytail. Part of him is relieved to see his biscuit back safely, because despite what he has told Jocelyn, he doesn’t want anything to happen to Clary either.

Magnus focuses back on the task at hand, hearing the girls confer silently amongst each other. The sudden ringing of Isabelle’s phone makes him look over. He can’t quite catch her words, so he concentrates on the potion’s ingredients instead. Whatever it is, they will surely let him know if it’s important.

It doesn’t take long and both girls return to the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

“How is he?” Isabelle asks, moving towards the foot of the bed and looking down at her brother.

“Unchanged,” Magnus replies briskly, using some magic to mix ingredients inside a little glass vial.

“We’ve just spoken to Jace,” Clary explains, crossing her thin arms over her chest. “He got away from the ship.”

Relief floods Magnus’ system at her words and he sits down on the bed, sighing. “Where is he?”

“I told him to meet us at your place,” Isabelle explains. “Can you portal us there?”

The warlock scoffs, sending a smirk their way. “Child’s play.” He checks the vial in his hand and then bends over Alec’s body, pressing it to his lips. With one hand gently holding the back of his neck, he pours the potion down his throat, one sip at a time to not choke the young man. “But what about your friend Aldertree?”

“Leave that to us,” Isabelle says, determination clear on her face. “We’ll be right back. Just get Alec ready for traveling.” She beckons Clary to follow her with a wave of her hands and then they are out of the room again.

Magnus watches Alec’s still face, the way his long, dark lashes – and really, it should be illegal for a man to have eyelashes any woman, and some men, would kill for-, fanning out against his pale skin. His eyebrows twitch, as do the corner of his mouth. There is sweat running down his temples, so Magnus gets up and walks towards the bathroom. It’s much smaller than his own at home, without a bathtub or proper lighting. It’s perfunctory and clean and very militaristic. Not surprising, given the fact that the Institute is basically nothing else than a military base. But it’s also very Alec, with the plain white tiles and neat arrangement of comb, razor and toothbrush. The young Shadowhunter has absolutely no beauty products, not even a facial cream of any kind, but Magnus is not surprised. Alec, although not technically unfashionable, doesn’t really care about appearances like that. The most provocative thing he’s ever seen on the Nephilim had been the jeans shirt he’d worn on the day they had met. And Magnus would bet his flat in Paris that dear Isabelle had had something to do with that.

Scanning the small room for a towel, he grabs one from the rack and returns to Alec’s bed. Magnus gently moves the cloth over his face, dabbing away the sweat from his forehead. Discarding it at the foot of the bed, he combs his fingers through Alec’s dark mop of hair, moving the strands away from his handsome face. His eyes travel over the thick dark brows, for once not drawn together in a scowl, down to the full lips that make him long for another kiss. Magnus doesn’t often get the opportunity to just look at Alec, the young Shadowhunter being in near constant movement. He also has a problem with being looked at for too long, immediately thinking the worst. His Alexander is just not used to being the center of anyone’s attention and it breaks Magnus heart to think that no one, except perhaps his siblings, has ever told him that he’s smart and funny and beautiful and simply worthwhile.

The opening of the door draws his attention and he sees Isabelle slipping back into the room. They exchange a quick look, communicating that there is still no change.

“My _parents_ ,” she says, making air quotes with her fingers, “have asked for Alec to be send to Idris tonight. We can just bring him to your place instead, and no one will be the wiser.”

“Sneaky, dear,” Magnus says, earning himself a wicked smile from Isabelle. He has to hand it to the younger Lightwood, she certainly knows how to play the people around her to her advantage.

They work in silence, stashing away the supplies Magnus had summoned earlier in a hurry, when a murmur lets them both look up. “Best team,” Alec mumbles, barely audible.

Magnus shoots forward, a calming hand on his shoulder, and squeezes soothingly. “It’s okay, Alec. You hear me? We’re gonna get you out of here and bring you back,” he explains quietly, mouth inches from the young man’s ear. He can only hope a part of Alec, somewhere deep down, will understand. He has to hold on, just long enough for Jace to pull his _parabatai_ out of this coma. Magnus needs him to just hold on.

For the millionth time it seems, the door is pushed open and Aldertree walks in, flanked by three other Shadowhunters. Magnus clenches his jaw, feeling annoyed on Alec’s behalf about people constantly violating the privacy of his bedroom.

“You put in a request to transfer your brother to Idris?” Aldertree spits out without preamble, fixing Isabelle with a stern look.

She and Magnus stand up, Isabelle defiantly raising her chin. “My _parents_ put in the request,” she replies, not cowering in front of the Institute’s leader.

Aldertree shakes his head, scoffing. “Alec isn’t leaving this Institute. I’m sure his warlock friend can figure something out.” He eyes up Magnus, who bristles at the derogatory use of the term. “ _Here_.”

“This isn’t waking Sleeping Beauty with a kiss,” Magnus replies, barely containing the anger brewing in his chest. “Runic power is deep. It requires magic that can’t be accessed in the walls of this Institute.” Technically, it isn’t even a lie. The magic Magnus would need to bring Alec back is just not his own, but Jace’s. And he is not here.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, and, ultimately, I don’t care,” Aldertree counters, looking between him and Isabelle. “But as far as I’m concerned, your brother is too weak to be portaled.”

“You’re just using Alec as bait to arrest Jace,” Isabelle says, unbearably calm. But Magnus can see the fury in her dark eyes, a fury she is holding back for her brother’s sake.

“No, I’m working to capture the fugitive who put Alec in this position,” Aldertree replies, and Magnus would love nothing more than to slam his head against the wall. Maybe that will knock some sense into this idiotic Shadowhunter. “I have allowed this warlock into the Institute for the sole purpose of treating your brother. Although, you don’t seem to be doing too good a job of it.” He addresses the last part at him and Magnus juts his chin out, fighting to control his rising temper. “I’m placing Raj by the door. Do not try this again.” Aldertree looks back and forth between him and Isabelle for good measure, then leaves the room with a short nod at Raj.

The other Shadowhunter makes an apologetic face, but Magnus rolls his eyes and moves back to Alec’s side. “I’m just under orders,” he says sheepishly, to no one in particular.

“Shut up, Raj.” Magnus can’t keep the smirk at Isabelle’s annoyed tone from his face. Sighing, he snaps his fingers and conjures up another burst of healing magic. His fingers hover over Alec’s face, a new bout of sweat clinging to his restless face. Magnus already feels drained, his reserves slowly starting to dwindle. He is perhaps using more magic than he should, especially because it is unlikely that Alec will wake up without Jace’s help, but he can’t just sit around and do nothing.

 

///

 

_Shadows, flickering light. A cocky smile. Bullseye._ The best team _. Suddenly, warmth. A different kind. Blue light, gentle hands. Tingling. Hot breath and soft lips. Is this a dream? Pressure, soothing voices._ Alec?

 

///

 

Magnus’ arms feel heavy, but he fights against the exhaustion. Through his magic, he can sense that Alec is beginning to slip, his own side of the _parabatai_ bond weakening from hour to hour. He doesn’t know how long he’s been at the Institute, because there is no clock in Alec’s room, but he knows it must be very late. Or early.

Alec’s limbs twitch in time with Magnus’ movements, his socked feet dangling off the end of his bed. It’s ridiculous that someone as tall as Alec has a bed that is simply too short for his long body. And you would think that at least in that regard, Shadowhunters would provide their warriors the best comfort possible. Apparently not. Magnus can’t stop himself from thinking that there would be enough room for Alec in his own bed back at the loft. And he could always summon a larger one, if needed.

Alec grunts quietly, mumbling again. “No. ‘s too late. I…”

“Alec?” Magnus asks hopeful, leaning one arm on the side of the bed. He waits, but besides a slight twitching of his face, the young Shadowhunter remains quiet.

Inhaling sharply, Magnus casts an angry blow of magic out from his hands, sending a few trinkets from the bedside table crashing to the floor.

Raj, who is standing next to the door, looks up at him, unimpressed. “You know you’re gonna have to clean that up?” Glaring at him, Magnus turns his back to him, not wanting to give in to his anger. “I feel you, man, but I have direct orders. If you can’t help him, then you need to go.”

“My magic is the only thing keeping Alec from completely slipping away. I won’t leave,” Magnus replies through clenched teeth. He can feel the fury bubbling up from inside him, pushing against the tight reign he still has over it. Alec’s socked feet is touching his knee and he tries to focus on the feeling of their connection to keep himself grounded.

Raj, it looks like, seems to have a death wish and steps closer. “I know you’re old, but I didn’t realize you were hard of hearing. He’s clearly not waking up any time soon, so you can leave, _now_ , or I can remove you myself- “

It’s the final straw and the anger bursts out of Magnus in a surge of violent, red-hot magic. Without even looking at Raj, he flings out an arm and catches him in a painful chokehold. The Shadowhunter is quiet, at last, and Magnus slowly turns his head towards him. “I’m sorry. I don’t like being rushed,” he says in a deadly quiet voice. Shadowhunters often seem to forget who and what he is and think that they can just order him around without having to consider the consequences. But he isn’t the High Warlock of Brooklyn for nothing, and if they knew who his father is, they would take care to keep their distance.

Magnus strikes his hand out and sends Raj flying through the air. He crashes against the wall, destroying a painting in the process, and slams to the floor, unconscious. Magnus moves towards the fallen warrior, but is stopped by Isabelle, who comes rushing in through the door.

“Magnus, stop!” she says urgently, grabbing him by the shoulders. She is stronger than her small body would suggest, so Magnus is forced to shift his gaze towards her. “We need to get Alec out of here, but this isn’t helping.” Her dark eyes chase over his face, pleadingly, willing him to reign in his temper once more.

He takes a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes, and summons all the self-control he can muster. Looking at Isabelle again, he gives a sharp nod and she lets go of his shoulders.

“What about Raj?” he asks, voice still tinged with anger and frustration.

Isabelle looks down at the unconscious Shadowhunter, hesitating for a moment, then back up at him, a small spark in her eyes. “I have an idea,” she says, crouching down next to Raj. “Help me get him on the bed.”

Magnus opens his mouth in protest, then thinks better of it at the look of determination on her face. Together, they haul him up next to Alec, who doesn’t take any notice of the other guy in his bed. Isabelle takes out her stele and moves it over a rune on Raj’s arm. His appearance begins to shift, and suddenly an Alec duplicate is lying in his place. Magnus raises a surprised eyebrow, but Isabelle just smirks at him, tucking the stele back into the pocket of her pants.

“I take it we won’t listen to Aldertree’s orders anymore?” he asks nonetheless, wanting to make sure she is on board with breaking the rules.

She nods, placing her hands on her hips, body radiating defiance. “We’ve done it long enough. Aldertree is clearly willing to sacrifice Alec’s life, but I’m not. Take him to your place. I’ll hold them of for as long as I can and send Jace your way.”

Magnus regards her for a moment, full of admiration. Both Lightwood children have already surprised him in more ways than most Shadowhunters have ever before. He’s only known them for a few short weeks, and not only Alec, but Isabelle as well has begun to grow on him.

He moves forward, grabbing her face between his hands, and plants a big kiss on her forehead. She smiles warmly up at him and he can see the love she has for her brother reflected in her eyes. That she is willing to trust Magnus with his life, without even questioning it for a second, sends a surge of affection through his body.

“Thank you, dear,” Magnus says, but she waves him off quickly, ducking her head.

“Just keep my brother alive,” Isabelle replies, holding out the _adamas_ stone for him to take. Then she walks over to the bed and bends down to kiss Alec’s forehead.

He nods solemnly. He will do everything in his power to wake Alec himself or at least ensure his survival until Jace can return the missing part of his _parabatai_ ’s soul. Raising a hand, he creates a portal with a flourish, then steps next to the bed. Moving his arms under Alec’s knees and back, he lifts the young Shadowhunter up into his arms. Unsurprisingly, Alec is heavy, and Magnus’ muscles strain against the added weight. Isabelle moves forward and gently drapes one of Alec’s dangling arms across the warlock’s shoulder and the other over his own stomach. 

“You got him?” she asks softly, hands hovering as if she is preparing herself to catch him.

“I got him,” Magnus replies, clutching Alec to his chest as close as possible. With a final nod at Isabelle, he steps through the portal.

Within seconds, they are both back at the loft. Magnus has a hard time snapping his finger to move his lounge chair over to the middle of the living room, but he eventually manages. He walks towards it and gently lowers Alec’s limp body down on it. Sinking to his knees next to the chair, he leans over Alec and breathes him in with closed eyes. Now that there is no danger of being interrupted, Magnus allows himself to let loose the emotions he has tried to bottle up ever since Isabelle’s phone call earlier.

He presses his face against Alec’s shoulder, pinching his eyes closed to keep the tears from falling. His heart is beating out a painful rhythm in his chest and he throws an arm over Alec to draw him even closer. Magnus wants him to wake up so desperately and it’s tearing at his insides that he can feel Alec slipping further and further away. They were meant to have more time. Magnus is immortal, but Alec is still so young, _so young_ , too young to die. Not now, not like this.

Opening his eyes, he finally gives himself a jerk and gets up from his perch on the ground. He spends the next half hour magically scanning all his spell books for an answer, for any other way of bringing Alec back, but he quickly has to accept that the Angelic magic of rune stones is beyond his powers. Magnus stares down at the stone in his hand, eyes tracing the intricate pattern of the _parabatai_ rune. He has never envied Shadowhunters for their rune abilities, but the idea of a bond like _parabatais_ share has always been fascinating to him. Now, he wants to curse whoever came up with the idea of binding two souls together like this. His thoughts also briefly travel back to another pair of _parabatais_ he had known in London, over a century ago. Whenever he thinks of friends long gone, his heart constricts painfully, as it does now.

Feeling more defeated than ever before in his life, Magnus eventually moves back to the lounge chair, sitting down, face only inches from Alec’s. “Come back. Come back. Please come back,” he whispers softly, desperately, voice breaking. He clutches the _adamas_ in his hand as if that would summon Alec’s soul back to his body. “I’m all out of answers. I’ve tried everything.” Of course, Alec can’t hear him and remains deadly still.

Suddenly, a thought crosses Magnus’ mind and he stares at the young Shadowhunter’s handsome face. Part of him knows it’s futile, ridiculous to even consider it, yet he leans over and presses his lips against Alec’s in a soft, careful kiss. It feels wrong that Alec is not responding, clumsily reciprocating the affectionate gesture. Magnus loves kissing Alec, his mouth hesitant yet exploratory, lips soft yet demanding. Despite his inexperience, Alec is a fast learner and kisses with everything he’s got. He pours all his heart and soul into a kiss, and even the memory sends shivers of warmth and pleasure down Magnus’ back.

Now, however, Alec remains ghostly pale and unresponsive. Magnus takes a deep breath, lowering his eyes in disappointment.

 

///

 

_Warm lips, soft breath._ Am I dreaming _? A beating heart, soulful eyes. The soft drag of skin on skin._

_Snap. The crack of a whip, the flicker of a candle. Brown hair and dark eyes. Home, comfort, warmth._ One day, somebody’s gonna love you, heart and soul _._

///

 

An insistent knocking on his door drags Magnus from his spiraling thoughts. He quickly wipes at his eyes, only sparing a brief thought for his makeup, then flicks out a hand to open the door. He can hear the tell-tale clacking of Isabelle’s heels, followed by the softer steps of Clary. Both girls rush into his living room, Isabelle falling to her knees next to her brother. Magnus scoots over to give her some room, even though part of him is reluctant to even move one inch away from Alec.

Isabelle cards her fingers through her brother’s hair, watching him with a gentle eye.

“He can’t last much longer,” Magnus says quietly, rubbing his hand over Alec’s knee. The heavy sound of footsteps makes him turn around once more. For the second time tonight, Magnus is flooded by an intense sense of relief, his heart jerking violently against his ribs.

Jace is standing in the doorway, face scratched within an inch of his life. His shirt is torn in several places and he looks like he’s been through hell and back. “Alec,” the blond Shadowhunter exclaims, walking towards his _parabatai_.

Magnus stands up, thinking that he’s never been gladder to see someone in his life. He holds out the _adamas_ towards Jace, who takes it almost reverently, fingers grazing Magnus’ skin. The look they share tells him in how much pain the young man also is, reminding Magnus that he is not the only one who cares for Alec. He watches Jace walk past him, knowing that all his hopes are now in the hands of this stubborn, cocky, yet loyal young Shadowhunter. And who would have thought, only a few weeks ago, that his own happiness would depend on the bond between these two very different men.

Isabelle moves away to give Jace some room as he kneels down next to his brother. Magnus watches as he gently clasps their hands together, the rune stone between them. It begins to glow, casting an eerie light on Alec’s pale face.

Magnus can barely make out the whispered words coming from Jace’s mouth, but he knows he is reciting the ancient words of the _parabatai_ oath. “Entreat me not to leave thee, or return from following after thee.”

 

///

 

_Doubt. Family. Pressure. Responsibility. Love?_

_A proud smile and dark locks. The look of relief. Brotherhood. Trust. A grasping hand. Reaching out and holding tight. Blue fire. The oath of ages, a promise kept. A burning rune._

///

Isabelle, Clary and Magnus all huddle together, standing only a few feet away, yet feeling miles apart at the same time. To Magnus, it is almost as if he is infringing upon a very private moment, and he can hear Jace’s heavy breathing, mirroring his own from earlier. His heart is throbbing in his chest, and he wishes there was something else he could do right now to help. But it is on Jace’s shoulders now to save Alec.

Suddenly, Alec’s body is wrecked by a violent surge and the rune stone topples to the carpeted floor. Jace pants, looking down in confusion and anguish.

“What’s happening?” Isabelle asks quietly, hands gripping tightly to her own elbows.

Magnus doesn’t want to say it, but eventually forces the words out. “He’s slipping.”

“No!” Clary exclaims, voice wavering, head moving back and forth between him and Alec.

The wheezing coming from the dark-haired Shadowhunter cuts like knifes into Magnus’ heart and he is powerless to watch Jace grab Alec’s face in desperation.

“Thy people will be my people, thy God will be my God,” he goes on reciting. “When thou diest, I will die. And there will I buried. The Angel do so to me.” Jace’s voice breaks at the end, and he takes a shaking breath.

Alec exhales slowly, and then his head drops to the side and he is perfectly still. Jace’s shoulder shake in a silent sob as he takes his brother by the shoulders and pulls his lifeless body into his arms.

Magnus feels like his insides are being ripped into shreds, his heart hammering in his chest. A single tear falls down his cheek and the lump in his throat is threatening to choke him. Yet his mind is quiet, as if someone has suddenly turned off all the lights, plunging his soul into darkness. He can’t take his eyes away from the dark head resting on Jace’s shoulder, black hair in stark contrast with the other one’s golden mop.

“And more also, if aught but death part thee and me,” Jace whispers, silent tears running down his face. “Please don’t leave me, Alec.”

Magnus can only stare. He has lost so many people in his life, many way too early. All their deaths have left a toll on him, some more than others. He remembers them all, every single one of them. He can see Ragnor’s face, his soulful eyes and easy smile, always causing mischief with that tongue-in-cheek behavior of his. He misses him so much, but this is somehow different. Magnus is not ready to lose another one so dear to him, especially one so young, with his full life still ahead.

Despite his experience with death, with heartbreak, with suffering and sorrow, it never gets any easier. And now, Magnus’ heart is breaking again. Breaking for what has only just begun, for what could have been. A young life, ended before it could even really start. All he feels is pain, so much pain, a pain he never wanted to feel again.

 

///

 

_A lack of air. The flicker of a heart. Tears, in streams and streams and streams. Whole oceans full of tears. Pain and sorrow, fear and guilt, hope and love._

_Blue eyes, brown eyes. A child’s laughter. The warmth of a hug. The smell of rain. A flying arrow. Bullseye._ Time to wake up _._

_Then, nothing._

///

 

 “If augh but death part thee and me.” Alec’s mouth moves before he is even aware of anything around him. He slowly blinks his eyes open, but everything is hazy and his vision is blurred. He can feel a hard shoulder under his cheek and then a hand grabs his neck and tips him backwards. He can hear the soft sounds of silent crying somewhere nearby, the catch of a breath, a sigh of relief.

When his eyes adjust to the soft light around him, Alec’s gaze travels up to the face hovering over him. He would know that blond head and mismatched eyes anywhere, even with all the scratches and wounds covering his face. It’s Jace. His _parabatai_ grabs at him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Alec feels weak and disoriented, but nothing matters now because Jace is here, with him, in his arms. So he clings to him, not willing to part with him again.

Alec can hear his brother’s sobs, tears of his own falling from his eyes as he presses his face into Jace’s shoulder. The bond in his chest is there, open, vibrant and full of life. Despite the heaviness clinging to his body, he has never felt more alive. Alec sobs quietly, relieved, not caring to keep back the emotions threatening overwhelm him.

“Jace Wayland,” a harsh voice cuts through his mind. “You are hereby sentenced to the City of Bones to await trial for the charge of high treason and aiding Valentine in the war against the Clave.”

Jace looks back, shoulders suddenly tense, then gently places Alec down to rest against the lounge chair he is sitting on. He gets to his feet and turns around to face Aldertree and his fellow Shadowhunters.

Alec is confused, head spinning slightly, and he tries to push himself up. “Wait, what… what the hell is going on?” He is too weak to fully sit up, so he stays slumped over, staring at the other people in the room.

Jace turns back to him, smiling. “It’s alright, Alec. All that matters is you’re back.” The guards grab him by the arms and lead him from the loft, before anyone else can do or say anything.

“Jace,” Alec calls out weakly, attempting again to get up from the chair. Suddenly, there is a strong hand on his shoulder, holding him down firmly but gently. Alec looks over and sees Magnus’ dark eyes staring back, makeup slightly smudged at the edges, and the trail of tears still clearly visible on his face. Of course it’s Magnus. He’s here, by Alec’s side, and somehow he knows that he has been, the whole time.

“He’ll be okay, Alexander,” the warlock murmurs softly, giving him a warm and encouraging smile. The use of his name, as always, sends a pleasant shiver through Alec’s body, making him relax almost instantly.

“Magnus is right, Alec. Jace will be okay.” It’s Izzy, coming to stand behind Magnus. Her face, also streaked with tears, beams down at him in relief, although there is a slightly guilty look in her dark eyes.

Alec briefly closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion catch up to him again. He is slightly unsure about what has actually happened and how he has gotten to Magnus’ loft. The last thing he remembers is trying to locate Jace through the _adamas_. Apparently, it had worked, only judging from the tears and relief all around, he thinks he might have almost gotten himself killed in the process.

“I think Alec needs some rest,” he hears Magnus say, hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Can you portal us back to the Institute?” Izzy asks, which makes Alec finally open his eyes again.

He looks over at Magnus, and although he’s still kind of out of it, confused, weak and hazy, he knows that he doesn’t want to leave right now. He tries to catch his sister’s eye, just as Magnus says: “Certainly.” He sounds a little disappointed, though Alec doesn’t quite know why.

“Maybe it’s best for Alec to stay the night? It’s almost dawn and he needs some rest. Clary and I will be busy trying to help Jace, so there’s no one to take care of him.” Alec stares at Izzy, dumbfounded. Once again, his sister surprises him more than he thinks is possible.

“I’m right here, you know,” he croaks out, attempting to sit up again. Magnus is right there, hands steadying him against the shoulders, but despite the support, Alec doesn’t get very far. Right now, he feels weaker than a kitten and has to admit that he won’t be much help for anyone at this point, especially not his brother. Leaning against the warlock’s broad chest, he realizes he has to trust that Izzy and Clary will work for his _parabatai_ ’s release. And besides, Jace will survive one night in the City of Bones. It’s not as if the allegations brought against him hold any truth anyway. Alec tries to tell himself that his brother will be released quickly.

Izzy winks at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Alec can see a look pass between her and Magnus, who hasn’t really moved from his side. He is radiating a comforting warmth and something about it rings a bell in the deepest corners of his mind. But he can’t quite put a finger on why his presence feels so incredibly familiar. It’s not as if he doesn’t know Magnus, but this is different, as if they have suddenly formed a new kind of connection.

His sister steps towards him and kneels down next to the lounge chair. Magnus moves out of the way to give her some space, lowering Alec gently back against the lounge chair. An irrational part of his mind starts to panic, eyes flickering nervously in the warlock’s direction. It takes a lot of effort to keep his emotions in check. He tells himself that Magnus is right there, not even three feet away, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

“Hey,” Izzy’s soft voice cuts through the haze of his thoughts. “Don’t you ever do this to me again, you hear me?” She cards her fingers through his sweaty fringe, pushing the strands of dark hair out of his eyes.

Although he is still not a hundred percent sure what has happened, he nods solemnly at the look on her face, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. She plants a kiss to the top of his head and steps away. Alec is surprised when Clary rushes forward, quickly squeezing his shoulder, and whispers: “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Magnus raises his hands and summons a portal with the flick of his wrist. “I’ll send him back tomorrow,” he promises, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“You better,” Izzy replies, equally amused, and then she takes Clary’s hand and they step through the portal, vanishing into thin air.

Magnus has his back to Alec, fists on his hips and head slightly bowed. He remains like this, not moving or acknowledging him, until Alec shifts uncomfortably on the chair. Managing to swing his legs to the floor, he tries to push himself to a standing position, but his knees feel like jello and he barely manages to catch himself again, a soft grunt escaping his throat. At that, the warlock turns around and is next to him in the blink of an eye.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself, Alexander,” he mutters quietly, eyes not quite meeting Alec’s. Magnus puts one hand on the Shadowhunter’s chest to steady him, while his free arms snakes around Alec’s back, holding tight.

“I’m okay,” he tries to reassure the other man, but judging from the arched eyebrow, he’s not very convincing. “Fine, I feel like I’ve fought a thousand rounds with a Greater Demon. But I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Magnus finally meets his eyes, an unexpected vulnerable softness clearly visible in the dark depths. “I can only repeat your sister’s words: Don’t you ever do something like this again, Alexander Lightwood!” His voice sounds hoarse, like he’s been crying, and Alec reminds himself that he has, in fact.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles quietly, lowering his gaze in shame. “I didn’t mean to worry you, any of you. I was just trying- “

“Hush,” Magnus interrupts, placing a hand to his cheek and forcing his head back up to look at him. “There’s no need to apologize. The only thing you need to do right now is rest.” He gives Alec a warm, affectionate smile that sends a shiver of comfort and longing down his back. Magnus offers his hand, so Alec slides his own into the smaller one, letting the warlock pull him to his feet. Magnus’ skin his hot against his palm, contrasted by the cool metal of his rings.

With one hand pressed firmly at the small of his back, Magnus leads him to his bedroom, carefully matching his steps to Alec’s wobbly stumbles. They eventually manage to reach the bed, Alec dropping heavily onto the mattress. Magnus helps him crawl further up, pulling back the covers and drawing them over his exhausted body.

Alec is practically asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Distantly, he registers the unbelievable softness of the material underneath his cheek and the perfect mixture of soft yielding and firm support of the bed itself. He feels the mattress dip as Magnus sits down next to him, a gentle hand stroking through his hair. He absentmindedly thinks that people have been doing this a lot today. But he doesn’t mind. It feels nice, Magnus’ tender movements lulling him in even deeper.

The last thing he hears is a softly whispered: “Sleep now, my Alexander,” before he finally drifts off into a dreamless, restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, someone please tell me why Alec’s room has two doors? I never noticed before, but Aldertree comes in through a different one than Izzy and Jocelyn. Like, WTF? Poor guy really needs more privacy. Obviously, I’m not addressing this two-door-problem and will also choose to ignore this, unless it becomes a plot point in the actual show. LOL.
> 
> I actually really loved showing Magnus’ side of the story for once and I even had to delete like half a page of text, before I realized that Alec was already awake again at that point and I had to shift back to his perspective. I might do some more scenes from Magnus’ pov in the future. 
> 
> Everyone, did you see those promo stills for 2x15? I mean… I died and all, but seriously, Freeform, chill. My poor heart can’t take this much softness and love and stuff. Who am I kidding, I’m a sucker for anything Malec, especially tender moments.
> 
> Okay, so technically my tumblr hasn’t changed, it’s still light-in-the-wood, but I had a slight reshuffle. If you’ve followed me before, you might have noticed that my blog is gone, because it was a secondary one. But I finally realized this fandom isn’t gonna let me go anytime soon, so I created a main one. It’s exactly the same, I’m just catching up with all my previous posts. I’d be thrilled if you found your way back to me. (Wow, sorry, these are some long endnotes, shutting up now.) xxx


	14. Day of Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter… Guys, it killed me. It was by far the hardest to write, that’s why it took me so long to upload it. I’m sorry, but I hope you're all still there reading it. Also, new rating... *smirks*
> 
> Let me tell you… the way poor Alec gets wrecked every single episode, the way he is put through the meat grinder, it’s just upsetting. First the thing with Jace and now Jocelyn and that demon attack. The guy seriously deserves a break after that, and so do I. But, judging from the most recent episode, there’s no rest for the wicked, huh? Holy moly, I can’t wait for 2x15!
> 
> Anyway, I love you all, thank you for still reading and commenting and kudoing. You guys are the best! Enjoy!

Alec wakes slowly, softly, eyes blinking open against the bright sun streaming through the window. He lifts his head, sight still bleary, and takes a look around. He is in an unfamiliar bedroom in an unfamiliar bed. The deep red sheets feel smooth and pleasant against his skin, warmed by the sunlight and his own body temperature. It’s like he’s resting on a cloud, all soft mattress and smooth satin. He’s never slept in a bed like this and has probably never been this well rested. Judging by the sun’s position, it’s already way past midday, probably already afternoon. Alec sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and takes a proper look around. The walls are a soft yellow, almost gold. There is a wooden dresser to his right, some comfortable looking chairs and a sofa to his left, and two huge paintings framing the door at the foot of the bed. Beyond the door, he can see a familiar living room. Alec realizes with a start that this is Magnus’ bedroom. He’s been in here before, back when he had collected Clary and Simon to go to Camille’s, but it had looked different then. Magnus, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when he had said that he likes to redecorate. A lot.

Something clicks in Alec’s mind at the thought of the warlock and he pauses for a moment, mouth gaping open. He looks down at himself, sees the baggy shirt he’s wearing, the hemline a little too short and the material way too soft to be one of his, and hesitantly lifts the covers. He’s wearing nothing but his own boxers and immediately feels the heat rush to his face. Why, in the name of the Angel, is he in Magnus’ bed, barely dressed?

His heart is doing somersaults in his chest and Alec takes a deep breath. All tiredness is gone, mind and body ready and alert. Adrenaline runs through him and it’s as if that triggers his recollection, all memories from the last few days rushing back to him at once. Alec places his hands to the sides of his head, feeling slightly dizzy, and closes his eyes at the onslaught of emotions and pictures in his mind. He remembers Jocelyn and the _adamas_ , Izzy’s reluctance to let him use it, and the constant, worsening numbness in his chest and ache in his head. Then there is nothing, a huge gap in his mind, as if someone had turned off the lights at one point. All he can remember are flashes, images, a sense of pain and fear, but also comfort and warmth. Then he recalls Jace’s return, how his brother had brought him back, but had then immediately been taken away again. Alec’s heart constricts at the realization that Jace is probably still stuck in the City of Bones, while he has been sleeping his time away at Magnus’.

Alec sweeps his gaze about the room once more, then looks over to the other side of the bed. It doesn’t look like Magnus’ has slept there, the covers only somewhat rumpled through Alec’s own movement. He wonders where the warlock has spent the night then, when a voice from the door makes him flinch slightly.

“How are you feeling?” Magnus is leaning against the doorframe, the bright blue of his shirt bringing out the caramel tone of his skin. His hair is styled elegantly and his makeup is as perfect as ever. He looks like he’s stepped out of a magazine and it makes Alec’s cheeks feel hot all over again. Magnus moves towards him, the tassel hanging around his hips swinging with each step, and holds out a steaming cup for Alec to take. Their fingers brush as he accepts it and he has to hold back the shiver racing over his back. Magnus’ smile is warm and soft, his dark eyes looking like molten chocolate in the sunlight.

“I, um, I feel fine,” he admits, taking a careful sip from the hot beverage. It’s not coffee or tea, but it tastes better than anything Alec has ever had to drink. “What is this?” he asks curiously, looking at Magnus over the mug’s rim.

The warlock smirks, sitting down at the edge of his bed, but not moving any closer. “It’s my own concoction. Secret recipe. It should make you feel better. Do you like it?”

Alec nods quickly, draining the drink in three long gulps. Magnus chuckles and holds out his hand for the empty mug. “I’m glad.”

Silence falls between them, both men watching each other carefully. Alec feels both excited as well as weird sitting in Magnus’ bed, after apparently having slept in it for the whole night. By himself. “Where did you sleep last night?” he asks eventually, watching Magnus raise a quizzical eyebrow.

“I didn’t do much sleeping, Alexander,” the other man replies, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Alec ducks his head, blushing. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to banish you from your bed.”

“Oh, hush,” Magnus laughs, waving him off. “You certainly needed it more than I did. And I must say, it was a pleasure seeing you in a bed that is not too short for your body.”

Alec frowns, eyes moving to the foot of the bed. Technically, his own bed at the Institute is only too short when he lies completely straight, but he usually pulls up his legs a bit to fit.  “Well, thank you,” he says, giving Magnus a warm smile.

The warlock returns it easily, lips curving upwards. “You’re very welcome.” They sit in silence for another moment, Alec absentmindedly playing with the edge of the sheet, until Magnus claps his hands together, making him look up. “How about some late lunch? I’m afraid you’ve slept through breakfast, but I could always get us something from this nice little bakery around the corner.”

Before Alec has a chance to reply, his stomach growling surreptitiously, a buzzing noise interrupts them. Magnus pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks his messages, brows drawing together in annoyance.

“What is it?” Alec asks, eyes narrowing.

“It seems I’ve been summoned to the Institute for questioning,” Magnus replies, a slight edge to his voice. He looks at Alec, smiling nonchalantly, yet it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He doesn’t look worried per se, but also not thrilled at the idea of being interrogated by Aldertree.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Alec argues, hands fisting in the sheets.

“Perhaps not, but I did attack and knock out Raj.”

Alec stops short, gaping at Magnus. “You did what?”

“What can I say, he annoyed me,” the warlock says, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. “I don’t like being rushed.”

Alec snorts at the pout on the other man’s face. “In that case, we’ll better get going.”

Magnus rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in defeat, but he does so mockingly, lips curling upwards. “If we must.” He gets up from the bed, gesturing towards a neat pile of clothing on the light sofa. “Your clothes are right over there. But you’re welcome to take a shower first.”

Alec throws back the covers, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting. I wouldn’t want to make Aldertree madder than he probably already is.” He turns around and catches Magnus staring at him, eyes traveling appreciatively up and down Alec’s form. He fights against the need to hunch back into himself. There is no need to be shy around Magnus and it’s not like he’s naked or anything, but he does feel a bit exposed standing there in just his underwear. Looking down at himself, he runs a hand over the hem of the shirt he’s wearing. “Is this yours, by the way?”

Magnus hums softly. “It is. Your own shirt was a bit sweaty, so I thought you might feel more comfortable in a fresh one to sleep in. I haven’t worn it in ages, but I must say, it suits you better, I think.”

Alec huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s a bit too short.”

“Exactly.” Magnus smiles at Alec and winks, making the Shadowhunter blush again. “Well, I’ll let you get changed.” The warlock makes his way back to the living room, pulling the sliding door shut behind him.

Alec takes a deep breath, smiling slightly to himself, then moves around the bed to his discarded clothes. Everything is in a neat pile, so he gets dressed quickly. His boots, however, are nowhere to be found, so he hangs Magnus’ old shirt over the arm of the sofa and heads out to the living room.

Magnus is sitting on his blue armchair, forefinger absentmindedly stroking over his lower lip, while he stares out the window towards Manhattan. He looks over when he hears Alec come in, gaze traveling up to his face.

“Do you know where my shoes are?”

Magnus chuckles, getting up from the chair, and walks over to Alec. “I only brought you here last night, and you didn’t have any on. They’re probably still in your room.” Alec looks down at his socked feet in annoyance. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to walk to the Institute.”

With a flourish, Magnus waves his hand in the air and summons a portal. When Alec turns towards it, he grabs his arm to hold him back. Alec frowns at him, taking in Magnus’ dark eyes and worried expression. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Magnus hesitates, hand sliding down Alec’s forearm until their fingers brush against each other, taking his hand. It reminds Alec of the night he had come to Magnus’ after snapping at him back in the Institute and how he had taken the warlock’s hand in his exactly like this. “Are you sure you’re feeling better? You’ve been through a lot.”

Alec’s expression softens and he squeezes the other man’s fingers reassuringly. “I’m fine. Jace is back and we’ll be home soon. Don’t worry.” For a moment, it looks like Magnus wants to say something else, then he closes his mouth and returns Alec’s smile. “Hang on,” Alec says when Magnus turns towards the portal, “don’t you need permission first?”

“I’ve been summoned, remember?” the warlock replies, chuckling.

“Right.” Alec feels like an idiot, but Magnus only winks at him. Together, hands still clasped tightly, they step through the portal.

They land in a deserted corridor and one look around tells Alec that they’re standing right in front of his bedroom. “Practice makes perfect,” he hears Magnus mumble and gives him a questioning look. The warlock just shrugs his shoulders and smiles. “I should probably go find that new boss of yours and get this over with.”

“Do you want me to come? I could take you to the office…” Alec’s voice trails off when Magnus shakes his head.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replies, smoothing his hand down Alec’s arm. “I’ll see you later.”

Alec hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Later then.” Magnus beams at him, then gives a little wave and heads off towards Aldertree’s office.

Alec watches him go, the corners of his mouth turned upwards. He appreciates the broad lines of Magnus’ shoulders, the muscles of his arms as they strain slightly against his tight black coat. They are just a little larger than his own. Then the warlock vanishes around a corner and Alec catches himself staring after him like an idiot. Shaking his head once, he opens his bedroom door and steps inside. He casts a glance around, noticing the ruffled sheets on his bed and his boots standing at its foot. The memories of lying down and taking the rune stone from Jocelyn come rushing back to him, but it doesn’t hurt as much with the knowledge that Jace is back, even though he’s still stuck in the City of Bones. Alec decides to take a quick shower and then go find Izzy to ask if there are any news.

Making his way to the bathroom, he drops his shirts, pants, socks and underwear in a pile on the floor. He catches his face in the mirror when he’s about to step into the shower and starts. His hair is a disheveled mess and looks like a bird has made its home there. The dark strands spike around his head and there is a slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks and chin. Izzy would probably smirk at his bed head and he’s glad that his sister hasn’t been lying in wait for him. He makes quick work of shaving his face, then finally turns on the water and steps under the spray. Alec closes his eyes for a moment, leaning his forehead against the cold tiles, and just enjoys the warm water for a few minutes. Eventually, he grabs the shampoo bottle and starts washing his hair. As he soaps up his body, his thoughts once again start trailing of, inevitably traveling back to Magnus. The way he had looked earlier when he had come to wake Alec had been all soft and gentle, basked in the afternoon sun, the light catching on his necklaces and turning his dark eyes chocolate. Alec knows it’s cheesy, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful in the morning. Or afternoon. Or ever, really.

Even just thinking about it now brings a slow smile to his face. Alec is still surprised at himself for actually letting those feelings out, though not necessarily broadcasting them to everyone around him. He’s always been a private person, partly out of necessity, and partly because he doesn’t like people getting too close to him. But with Magnus, it’s somehow different. He still feels a bit awkward and out of his depth around him, but it’s getting easier. And Magnus’ smiles and silent encouragements are also helping to make him be more open.

His mind drifts off to the moment he had realized he had slept in Magnus’ bed. He can feel his cheeks heat when he thinks about the silky softness of the blood-red sheets, the light filtering in through the windows, and Magnus, staring at him from the doorway. They haven’t even managed to go on a first date yet, but Alec has already stayed the night, even if not completely by choice. He remembers the way Magnus’ eyes had looked like molten chocolate in the glow of the afternoon sun, how his slow smile had lit up his whole face.

At the memories, Alec can feel his skin start to tingle and it has nothing to do with the warm water still hitting his body. Arousal blooms deep and low in his gut, stomach clenching pleasantly. Other mental images of a shirtless Magnus rush to the forefront his mind, the way his naked, hairless chest had glistened with sweat and the way the muscles of his back had moved under his caramel-colored skin. Alec presses his forehead harder against the cold tiles, eyes closed and breath coming out in fast puffs. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, trying to ignore the growing hardness between his legs. This is not the time or the place for this, for thinking about Magnus in that way. Blood rushes in his ears and his limbs feel heavy, his growing erection not flagging in the slightest. Eventually, he takes himself in hand, fingers trembling. Biting his lip to keep quiet, he moves his hand up and down, palm chafing slightly against the sensitive skin of his erection, despite the constant flow of water. His pace is fast and almost brutal, grip tight and efficient. He never takes his time with getting himself off, just wanting it to be over quickly and never trying to think about anyone specific. Usually, he just imagines muscled arms and rippling backs, the scratch of a beard or the nearly bruising grip of a large hand. His fantasies, if one can even call them that, never have faces or voices, his own harsh breathing the only thing he can hear. It’s just a means to an end and it always ends in shame.

Now, it’s slightly different. Alec thinks about Magnus’ chest, the curve of his mouth and those warm, dark eyes. He thinks about waking up between soft sheets, about how Magnus’ goatee drags against the skin of his face when they kiss, and how Magnus smiles at him so readily. Alec’s hand moves faster, still perfunctory and without finesse, but the thought of Magnus’ face, his voice, the smell of his cologne, quickly brings him release. He comes quietly, breathing harshly, hand slowing down until he’s too sensitive and has to let go. His chest heaves and he opens his eyes to see the last bits of his milky release being flushed down the drain. His knees shake slightly, so he leans his full weight against the shower’s wall. As orgasms go, this was not nearly as satisfying as it could have been, but then that is seldom Alec’s objective. Because it’s the first wank in a long while, really the first since he’s met Magnus, his stomach twists with a sense of shame, but he quickly tries to squash those feelings. That ingrained notion of self-hatred and disgust at his actions are still at the back of his mind, but the warm, blooming sensation around the regions of his heart help with keeping his uneasy in check.

Alec wonders how a relationship with Magnus is going to work, especially since he’s never been with anyone before. If touching himself like that already brings out the feelings of shame, even now, then how will he react if… _when_ it’s not just sleeping he does in Magnus’ bed? Alec assumes that Magnus will eventually want to have sex, but he’s not sure how the warlock is going to react when Alec tells him that he’s still a virgin.

The muffled sound of knocking rips him out of his thoughts and he looks up. “Alec?” he can hear Izzy’s faint voice through the bathroom door.

“I’m in the shower,” he calls back, quickly rinsing his hair and body, and shutting off the water. He steps out of the shower and grabs a towel to dry himself off. Tying it around his hips, he opens the bathroom door to find his sister sitting on the foot of his bed, smirking at him like there’s no tomorrow. She raises her eyebrows at Alec’s naked appearance, but he ignores her quiet snicker and moves to his drawers to pull out some fresh clothes.

“You look… well rested,” Izzy says after a while, when it’s clear Alec won’t be the first to speak.

He shoots her a look and she just smirks back at him. “I slept until about an hour ago.”

“Really? In Magnus’ bed?” Her tone is more than suggestive, but he just shrugs his shoulders at her.

“Stop making innuendos, Iz,” Alec replies, eyes narrowed. “Nothing happened. I was way too out of it.”

Izzy chuckles as he grabs a clean pair of underwear, pants and a shirt, and moves back to the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. “How are you feeling now?” she calls from the bedroom.

He drops the towel and puts on his clothes, buttoning up his shirt last. “I’m good.” He steps back into his room, giving Izzy a reassuring smile. “Thank you for taking care of me.” Dropping a kiss to her head, he sits down next to her on the bed.

“You’re welcome. I was really worried about you,” she says quietly, her dark eyes moving over his face.

“I know. I’m sorry. But I’m really okay now.”

“I guess sleeping at Magnus’ helped a lot, hm?”

Alec rolls his eyes, but eventually nods. “It did.” Izzy smirks again, but it’s softer now, less loaded with wicked ulterior thoughts. “Have you spoken to Jace?”

His sister shakes her head, looking down at the hands in her lap. “No, but Clary went to the City of Bones earlier. Apparently Jace didn’t want to talk to her, but he’s okay. I mean, considering the circumstances.”

“What about the charges brought against him?” he asks, brows furrowed. “There’s no way he’s been working with Valentine.”

“Aldertree is heading over there later to trial him with the Soul Sword,” Izzy says and Alec notes how worried she looks. He knows there’s no evidence of his brother’s involvement with Valentine and although trial by a Mortal Instrument and the Silent Brothers might not be a simple walk in the park, at least he can be sure that Jace will be back at the Institute in no time. He tells his sister that much by saying: “Don’t worry, Izzy, he’ll be home soon.”

“I hope so,” she replies solemnly. She raises her hand to card through his wet, messy hair and gives him a small smile. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

He leans into her hand for a moment, nodding. “I’m good, don’t worry. Ready to go back to work.”

“Maybe you should take it easy for a few days.”

He snorts, getting up to put on socks and then his boots, still standing next to his bed where he had left them. “You’re such a worrywart. I’m the older brother, remember?”

It’s Izzy’s turn to roll her eyes, but she looks more at ease then. “Fine. I don’t know why I was worried about you anyway,” she counters, arms crossing over her chest. “You had your gorgeous warlock boyfriend to take care of you all night, while I had to deal with Aldertree’s angry tirades and Clary’s crying.”

Heat crawls up Alec’s neck, turning his ears beet-red and he hunches his shoulders uncomfortably. Boyfriend. He hasn’t even had the chance to talk to Magnus about their relationship yet, let alone define it as such. By the Angel, they haven’t even been on a first date yet. “Shut up,” he stammers out eventually. Izzy’s huge grin makes her eyes crinkle and he turns his back to her, grabbing his phone and stele from atop the drawer. “Don’t you have some work to do?” he says, giving her the side-eye.

Izzy snickers, getting up as well, and heads for the door. “Always, big brother.” With a wink, she’s out the door, skipping along the corridor with a melodious laugh. Alec can’t help but smile at her behavior, but then quickly shakes his head to focus.

Magnus’ talk with Aldertree should be over soon and he really wants to speak to him before he leaves the Institute. They haven’t really had time to talk about what had happened during Alec’s coma, but he feels like he still owes the warlock his gratitude. A part of him remembers feeling his presence nearby, hovering and guiding, anchoring his soul to his body. He doesn’t know if Jace alone has been the one to bring him back, but he certainly knows that Magnus’ closeness helped.

When he reaches Aldertree’s office, he can see Duncan, a fellow Shadowhunter, standing guard outside. He gives him a curt nod and leans against the wall opposite the door, arms crossed over his chest.

“You waiting for that warlock friend of yours?” Duncan asks after a few minutes, watching Alec with narrowed eyes.

He clenches his jaw, feeling annoyed at the hidden implication of the other man’s words. “His name is Magnus Bane.”

Duncan purses his lips, but before he can say anything in return, the door opens and Magnus himself steps out. His eyes light up when he sees Alec waiting for him and he moves over without hesitation. “You look refreshed,” he says, a smile spreading over his face.

Alec returns it easily, but catches Duncan’s piercing stare over Magnus’ shoulder. He puts a hand to the warlock’s back and steers him down the corridor towards the ops center. Magnus looks up at him questioningly, but doesn’t say anything and lets himself be led.

“How’d it go with Aldertree?” Alec asks, once they’re out of earshot.

“Well, the man didn’t disappoint,” Magnus replies sarcastically. “In his own charming, inimitable way, he informed me that I will indeed be punished, but the form of punishment is yet to be decided.”

They come to stand in the corridor just outside the ops center and Alec feels annoyance at the Institute’s new head creep up his back. Magnus definitely doesn’t deserve to be punished, he should be thanked instead. “All for trying to save my life,” he says, watching Magnus’ head quirk to the side. He hesitates for a moment, hands clasped behind his back. “Jace may have been the one who pulled me out, but I did feel you there. And it did make a difference. So… thank you.”

“Thank _you_ for not dying on me,” Magnus responds, smiling. Alec’s lips curve up into a lopsided grin and he lowers his eyes. “How… how is Jace?” Magnus continues, face once more serious.

“He won’t be gone long,” Alec replies, feeling sure about his brother’s imminent return to the Institute. “Once his hand touches the Soul Sword, the truth will come out and prove that he’s never been on Valentine’s side.” Magnus nods, seeming relieved. He’s not making any attempts of saying goodbye and Alec thinks that maybe now would be a good time to finally ask about perhaps going out for dinner. He takes a look around, watching a group of Shadowhunters walk past them towards the ops center, and moves closer to Magnus. “Look, um, I know that with everything that’s been going on, I…” he begins, hand gesticulating in front of him. Magnus watches him with raised eyebrows, waiting patiently. “We haven’t had a chance to…” Alec breaks off again, cursing his sudden stammering. It shouldn’t be this hard anymore to talk to the warlock.

But as always, Magnus is quick to catch on, breaking out into an amused grin. “Go on that first date we never had?” he helpfully finishes Alec’s sentence.

“Right, yes,” he replies, smiling relieved.

“I know a place in SoHo that has the best lamb kebab this side of Marrakesh. Or,” Magnus suggests eagerly, “we can portal to Marrakesh. You hungry?”

“Starving,” Alec says, making the warlock chuckle softly. He smiles again, heart picking up pace in his chest. He can’t believe they are finally going on a real date.

“Hey Alec,” a voice calls from somewhere behind him, making his stomach drop. He turns around to see Raj standing there, tablet in hand. “Demon briefing in the ops center. All hands on deck.”

Alec closes his eyes for a moment, but nods. Of course there had to be something ruining his day, on top of everything else. It’s just his luck.

“My dear Raj,” Magnus purrs suddenly, making Alec look back at him, “you look well.” Alec can’t help but grin at the not-so-subtle sarcasm in the warlock’s voice, especially after seeing Raj’s murderous glare. Once he’s gone, he sighs, opening his mouth to apologize to Magnus.

“Rain check?” the warlock cuts him to it, regret clear in his tone.

“Yes, yeah,” he replies apologetically. “I, uh, is that okay?”

Magnus’ lips curve upwards, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You go battle your demons.”

Alec wants to kiss him, he really does, but he feels it’s maybe not the best time or place to do this now. Instead, he gives Magnus a quick nod and strides back towards the ops center. Most Shadowhunters are already assembled and he makes his way through the crowd, locating Izzy leaning against a pillar.

“Hey,” she whispers, looking up at him. “How’s Magnus?”

“Aldertree said he was gonna punish him, but apparently wasn’t very specific about it,” he replies quietly, watching said leader step up to the stairs.

“Figures,” Izzy says, rolling her eyes, and Alec can only nod in agreement. “Have you seen Clary? She’s supposed to be here.”

Alec casts a glance around, his height giving him a better vantage-point than his sister, but he can’t spot the redhead anywhere. He sees Lydia standing next to the steps of the raised level, but she doesn’t look over. “No, and she’s not here.”

Izzy bites her lip, but then Aldertree begins the briefing. A demon had attacked and killed a mundane downtown, its brutality raising a red flag in the Institute’s system. Like everyone else, Izzy and Alec are given their respective assignments, but it quickly becomes obvious that without Jace, they’re going to need a third Shadowhunter to help.

“Let’s go find Clary,” Izzy suggests, and although Alec doesn’t really want to work with her on this, he knows there’s not much choice. Everyone else is on patrol, making sure no more demon attacks occur tonight.

While they make their way to Clary’s room, they pass two Shadowhunters in the corridor. “Did you hear that they reassigned Jocelyn Fairchild to Idris?” one says to the other, making Izzy and Alec exchange a surprised look.

“Yeah, I guess the Clave wants to keep a closer eye on Valentine’s wife and daughter.”

They can’t hear the rest of the conversation, as they round the corner. But before they can talk about the implications of Jocelyn, and perhaps even Clary, leaving the Institute, they come face to face with both women.

 

///

 

With the help of Luke, Izzy, Clary and Alec examine the crime scene of the demon attack, checking for any traces left behind. Alec has seen a lot of dead bodies in his time, killed more than a few demons, too, but even he has to admit that the force with which the creature has acted is almost beyond compare. He checks the perimeter, while Izzy takes samples, but he can’t find anything in the immediate area.

Izzy takes the body back to the Institute, so he and Clary widen the perimeter. She has trouble keeping up with his long strides, and part of him scolds himself for still treating her unkindly. After what Izzy and Magnus had told him, she had tried to save him as well, making sure Jace had found his way to the loft in the end.

They search for about an hour, until the demon’s heat signature suddenly gets stronger. Alec blinks his eyes a few times, slowly drawing his Seraph blade, keeping himself slightly in front of Clary. They find a frightened girl sitting behind a dumpster, her right hand drenched in scarlet blood. Alec quickly realizes that they have demon possession on their hands and that doesn’t bode well for the rest of the night. He’s mildly impressed by Clary managing to calm down the girl. They take her to the nearest ER, Alec pulling out his phone to text Izzy what they have found on their way there.

Quickly heading back to the Institute after that, a tense sort of silence falls between them. Alec doesn’t think it’s because of his words from earlier, but rather the realization Clary has had about the demon. She hasn’t really faced off against that many yet, and this is her first possession case. Those are always the most vicious ones.

Izzy waits for them in the ops center when they finally get back. “You were right,” she says as a way of greeting, her eyes on Alec. “It was a possession, but I can’t quite place the traces I found on the body.”

“What did the data bank say?” Alec asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s just the thing, it identified remains of a possessing demon, but there were other traces as well,” she replies, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of traces?” Clary cuts in, eyes moving from Izzy to Alec and back.

Before his sister can answer the redhead, the Institute’s alarm goes off.

All hell breaks loose after that, especially when it becomes clear that the demon can move freely around the Institute and Izzy’s necklace also doesn’t alert them to its presence, most likely due to Valentine’s experiments, as Clary suggests. Lydia goes into leader mode immediately, activating emergency surveillance and putting everyone on high alert. They go on lock-down, to keep the demon from escaping and more Shadowhunters from being put in danger.

As per Lydia’s orders, Alec goes to collect his bow and starts searching the living quarters. His eyes are slowly starting to hurt from the heat signature rune, its use not meant for prolonged periods of time. He checks every room, nook and cranny, but finds no traces of the demon.

A sudden high-pitched scream draws his attention on a lower level and when he turns the corner, he sees Raj bend over Lydia on the floor. Not hesitating for a second, he calls out, aims an arrow and shoots it in the possessed Shadowhunter’s thigh. Just when he is about to fire a second one, Raj suddenly starts to choke, black smoke pouring out of his mouth and vanishing into the ventilation system. Raj drops to the floor, where he stays, unmoving. Alec rushes forward, kneeling down at Lydia’s side.

“You’re okay,” he says quietly, squeezing her shoulder. She bites her teeth together to keep in her pained screams. Her right arm stands away from her shoulder in a weird angle, and it’s clear that it’s broken. “Anyone! Help!” Alec calls out, just as two other Shadowhunters round the corner, weapons drawn. Together, they move Lydia and the still unconscious Raj to the infirmary.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Alec says again, as he puts Lydia down on one of the beds. He pulls out his stele to draw an _iratze_ on Lydia’s shoulder and chest. Raj had left deep, bloody holes just under her collar bone, and the healing runes only take slow effect.

“Alec,” Lydia pants between pained breaths, “go help the others.” She gives him a stiff smile, her blue eyes boring into his.

For a moment, Alec hesitates. Ever since the wedding, they hadn’t really spent any time together, much less had a proper discussion, what with Jace going missing and Alec being in a coma. Now, seeing her in pain makes Alec realize once again that he really likes her and it hurts him to see her fight against the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. But he also knows that she’s right and him sitting at her bedside is not going to help anyone, not even her.

Leaning down, he places a kiss to her forehead, hand stroking over her blond hair. Without another word, he grabs his bow and makes his way back to the corridor the demon had last been seen in.

His heart beats steadily in his chest, all senses on high alert, as he carefully moves around the Institute, bow at the ready. He only encounters a few Shadowhunters, all alert and on the lookout as he is.

Alec is just moving down the corridor leading to Clary’s room, when black smoke suddenly swirls around him, clouding his vision and cutting off his air. He coughs, doubling over when the smoke invades his nose, mouth and ears. Arms flailing uselessly against it, he drops to his knees, heart racing. The last thing he hears is a terrible, ugly cackling from inside his mind, and then everything goes dark.

 

///

 

Alec slowly blinks his eyes open, limbs feeling like lead and skull pounding painfully. He can barely lift his head, ears ringing and drowning out all other noise, and casts a disoriented glance around. He’s in a corridor, on the floor, but he doesn’t remember getting there. What day is it? What time? It feels like hours have passed, hours alone in a darkness, pressing in on him from all sides, without knowing where up is and where down. There is a metallic smell in the air and an anxious dread makes his stomach twist painfully.

“Alec?”

The voice makes him look up and he sees Clary carefully move towards him, staring at his hands with wide eyes. He follows her gaze and his heart nearly stops at the sight of his bloody fist. His right hand is covered in icky, scarlet liquid, right up to his wrist, and there is an intense pain in his knuckles he hadn’t noticed earlier.

The realization that something terrible has happened hits him like a freight train, and he looks up at Clary in panic. “What did I do?” he croaks out, voice shaking just as much as his hands. His chest heaves, heart slamming against his ribs, and he can see the dark edges at the sides of his vision, narrowing in, making it harder and harder to focus.

Clary doesn’t reply, noticing, at the same time as Alec, the bloody footprints leading back to her room. The door is open, and she carefully walks towards it. Alec stares back at his bloody hand, feeling like throwing up. Clary’s horror-stricken gasp makes him look up again and he gets to his feet, knees trembling uncontrollably, just as she slides down against the doorframe, one hand raised in front of her mouth.

Part of him doesn’t want to see, but he forces himself to look around the corner anyway. It only takes a second to recognize the lifeless body of Jocelyn on the ground, a huge hole punched in her chest, just like the other victims. Alec’s mind rebels against what he is seeing, not wanting to accept that he has… that Jocelyn… He looks down at Clary, who is shuddering, face paler than he’s ever seen her, eyes brimming with tears.

Alec opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Instead, bile rises in his throat and he quickly closes it again, swallowing against the nausea. He is frozen in place, not taking his eyes off Clary, who in turn keeps staring at the body of her dead mother.

In the end, Alec doesn’t know what does it, but he briefly closes his eyes, fighting against the rising panic and shuts everything off. He goes in complete soldier mode, locking all emotions away, mind focused on a single task. With shaking fingers, he pulls his phone out of his pocket one-handed and sends off an alert to the ops center, awkwardly typing with his left, asking for immediate backup. Careful not to touch anything with his bloody hand, he moves to Clary’s bathroom and turns on the tab. Methodically, trying not to think about it, he starts scrubbing the blood off his fingers, palm and wrists. He watches, numbly, as the red washes down the drain in a swirl of pink water. He scrubs and scrubs, until his hand is red and raw, picking under his nails with the other hand to get the last traces of nearly dried blood off his fingers.

When Alec gets back to the bedroom, Clary is leaning against the door and other Shadowhunters are moving around Jocelyn’s body. He exchanges a few words with one of them, Milo, explaining what has happened. The other man stares at him with big eyes, but nods eventually.

Alec ushers Clary out of the room, and she follows him almost too willingly to the ops center. It’s like they’re both somehow moving on autopilot, not talking, not really acknowledging each other. Alec is still waiting for Clary to start screaming at him, punching him, trying to kill him even, but she is eerily quiet. The tears have stopped, just as her shuddering, and she isn’t even keeping a great distance between them.

When they get to the ops center, Alec moves to a screen and pulls up the surveillance footage from Clary’s room. Usually, the security cameras in the living quarters are not activated, but since Lydia had declared a state of emergency earlier, they now have actual video evidence of what Alec has done while he had been possessed.

“You don’t have to watch this,” he tells Clary quietly, but she only stares at the screen, not moving away.

It’s surreal, somehow, watching himself attacking Jocelyn, throwing her against the wall and punching his fist through her chest. Alec keeps looking back and forth between the screen and Clary, but she doesn’t react. When he sees his own eyes, completely black, staring up at the security camera, a small, evil smile on his face, he once again feels like throwing up. Barely keeping it together, he squeezes his right arm as hard as he can, nails digging in painfully. “Clary, I- “ He breaks off when she raises a hand, her jaw clenching.

“I have a demon to kill.” Her voice is quiet, but way more determined than Alec feels. She storms off and Alec is left standing in front of the screen, panic and his rational self rioting against each other in his chest. He grabs his right wrist, wanting nothing more than to tear off the offending limb, nails leaving bloody imprints on his pale skin.

After another moment’s hesitation, he hurries after Clary. Alec catches up with her just outside the ops center, where she is walking swiftly towards the training room. “Clary, wait!” he calls out, but she doesn’t stop. “Please, let me do this. You don’t have to put yourself in danger. Not now.”

Clary ignores him, making a beeline for the swords rack, when a movement on the other side of the room catches Alec’s attention. Izzy strides towards them, an unfamiliar force to her steps, and Alec walks in her path. “Izzy! We need your help. Jocelyn’s – “

“Dead because of you!” she interrupts him, voice deep and growling. She rushes forward, arm lashing out, and Alec narrowly sidesteps her attack. When she looks over her shoulder, her normally dark eyes are completely black, nothing about his sister showing on her expressive face.

Alec pulls his glamoured bow from his shoulder, while Clary brandishes her Seraph dagger. “It’s inside her,” she says, looking over at him.

“It’s still Izzy,” Alec replies, raising his bow and arrow. “Be careful where you aim.” His heart is pounding wildly in his chest, but all his attention is now focused on saving his sister, pushing the terror he feels to the side.

The demon seems to hesitate, weighing its chances against the two Shadowhunters. Then, in a fast burst, it charges Clary and flings her through the air. The redhead crashes onto a couch, rolls over the floor and stays still.

The demon turns back to Alec, growling, and he aims his arrow down to Izzy’s leg, like he had done with Raj earlier. But unlike with Raj, this is his sister, so he hesitates a moment too long. Not willing to hurt her even a little, he lets the demon get too close, slapping the bow from his hands. It keeps attacking him, but he manages to grip it tightly from behind, pressing its struggling form against his chest. “Izzy, please, stop! Izzy!”

His sister is generally a strong woman, but the demon inside her seems to amplify her strength some more. It catches his arm, grip slipping, and spins him around. With a solid punch to his chest, he goes flying backwards, hitting the ground hard. For a moment, he can’t breathe, the force of the blow vibrating down his sternum and cutting off his air. He grunts in pain, back aching, and then the demon is on him.

One hand is splayed over Alec’s chest, fingers digging painfully deep, right over his heart, while the other strokes along the side of his face. “Always the favorite child,” the demon purrs, head twitching unnaturally. “I’m done living in your shadow.”

Alec gulps, staring up at his possessed sister. “Izzy, if you’re in there, please listen to me.”

The demon smiles cruelly, baring its teeth. “Nice try.” Its hand is now at Alec’s throat, pressing down, while it raises the other over its head. For a moment, time seems to slow down, and Alec knows that if he really struggled, he could probably throw it off him. But the memories of Jocelyn’s body and the demon’s twisted words, freeze him in place.

His heart is beating out of control, but then suddenly, Clary comes sailing through the air. She crashes into the demon, a dagger lodged deep into Izzy’s back, and both grapple with each other, until Clary pulls the blade out again. The demon howls, black smoke pouring out of Izzy, while she drops to her knees and falls to the ground.

Alec watches in shock as the vapor accumulates just next to him, hovering in the air. “Go back to hell where you belong,” Clary spits out, brandishing a Seraph blade and attacking the demon head on. With a single blow, the creature goes up in flames, vanishing through the cracks in the floor, back to where it had come from.

Clary pants, while Alec still lies uselessly on the ground, chest radiating pain from where the demon had started digging in its fingers.

“Izzy,” the redhead exclaims, dropping her weapon and falling to her knees next to her. “Izzy, are you alright?”

That seems to wake Alec up again, and he clambers to his feet, sliding over to his sister’s unmoving body.

“Izzy!” he calls out, gently turning her on her back with Clary’s help. He cradles her head in the palm of his hand. “Izzy… please. Please be okay, Izzy.”

With a gasp, his sister opens her eyes. “What happened?” Alec helps her sit up, putting his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. She hugs him back automatically, body shivering slightly. Alec’s eyes meet Clary’s over her back and he can see the relief at Izzy’s safety drain from her face. His heart breaks at the obvious realization in Clary’s expression, as she gets slowly to her feet, walking towards the sitting area. While his sister is safe, her mother… is not.

Alec cushions Izzy against his right shoulder, looking down at himself. There is a tear in his shirt, right above his heart, where the demon had punctured his chest. He can feel the wounds beneath the cloth, but his sister’s pained breathing distracts him from his own injuries. Looking over at Clary, he pulls out his stele and activates the permanent _iratze_ on Izzy’s upper arm. She flinches, but accepts his healing readily. It takes longer than he likes, but the wound in her shoulder from Clary’s blade is deep, so it’s to be expected.

A figure suddenly rushes past him, towards where Clary is sitting, and he sees Simon stop in front of her, eventually falling to his knees. Alec can’t make out any words, and watches as the vampire pulls the redhead into a hug that she only slowly returns, eyes glazed over and unseeing.

A hand on his shoulder makes him look over, and he comes face to face with his _parabatai_ crouching down next to him. Jace’s face is still bloodied and scratched, his blond hair sticking to his forehead and his former white shirt torn and dirtied. But Alec doesn’t care about any of that, part of him just glad that his brother is back. He hugs him close with his free arm, while his heart clenches painfully at the thought of Jocelyn.

“Are you guys okay?” Jace whispers in his ear, looking down at Izzy.

Alec can’t say anything and only shakes his head. Jace pulls their sister to her feet, but she stumbles against Alec, when her knees buckle under her. He catches her and swings her up into his arms easily. She puts her arms around his neck and he pulls her close to his chest, carrying her out of the training room and towards the infirmary.

The next hour passes in somewhat of a blur. Izzy is being treated in the hospital wing and Alec doesn’t leave her side until she’s strong enough to move back to her own room to sleep it off. Together with Lydia, who is also out of the infirmary though her arm is still bandaged, he briefs Aldertree on what has happened during his absence, earning pitying looks when he recounts his own involvement in Jocelyn’s death. His tone is mechanic and unemotional, eyes focused on a crack in the wallpaper just over the fireplace in Aldertree’s office. Jace is also there, hovering somewhere behind him, but Alec doesn’t look towards his _parabatai_. He can’t face to see the hurt in his eyes, the accusation at killing his brother’s mother.

Aldertree eventually dismisses him to get some rest, but keeps Jace behind when he goes to follow him. Alec is silently glad about it, walking towards his room in a haze, eyes cast down and not acknowledging anyone he passes.

He locks his door behind him, which the Institute normally doesn’t allow, and heads for the bathroom. Toeing off his boots, he strips down until he’s naked, hands gripping the sides of the sink tightly. The face in the mirror starring back at him is ghostly pale, paler even then after his coma. And had that really only been last night? The pupils of his eyes are blown wide, nearly drowning out all the hazel. His lips are numb and almost white, and a fine sheen of sweat collects on the skin above his mouth. The air of his labored breathing fogs the mirror in quick puffs and his heart is almost going into overdrive. The nausea from earlier is back and this time, Alec doesn’t swallow down the bile. He vomits into the sink, his whole body shaking violently, stomach heaving and muscles straining. It doesn’t take long and he spits into the sink once more for good measure. Turning on the tab, he rinses his mouth from the foul taste, hands shaking where he holds them under the faucet. Looking back up, he can see the panic on his face, in the waxy color of his skin and the unnatural dilation of his eyes.

Before Alec even knows what he’s doing, his fist slams into the mirror, shattering it in hundreds of little pieces. The shards cut deep into the skin of his knuckles, and he clenches his jaw against the pain. Blood drips into the sink, mixing with the wetness of the water, turning the white porcelain pink. Alec drops his head, leaving it hanging between his shoulders, eyes shut tightly. The pain in his chest from the demon’s fingers is drowned out by the more recent of his injured hand, but all Alec can think about, all he sees in front of his eyes, are Jocelyn’s dead body and Izzy lying motionless on the ground. He killed his brother’s mother and nearly also his sister. The thought keeps spiraling through his mind, overpowering any other feelings or emotions, and he slowly slides to the ground, hands still gripping the sides of the sink. His eyes sting and he can do nothing to stop the tears from falling, running down his cheeks and dripping to the floor. A part of him feels like something has died inside of him tonight, something that has been broken and will never truly heal. A knock on his door makes him open his eyes, but he stays slumped on the floor, not moving.

“Alec? You in there, buddy?” he can hear Jace’s muffled voice through his bedroom door. “Come on, open up.” His brother keeps knocking and calling out his name, eventually joined by Izzy as well.

Alec knows they could use a rune to force his door open, but they don’t. He lets go of the sink and pulls his knees to his chest, leaning against the bathroom wall. His feet are like ice, as is his butt from sitting on the cold floor for so long. But it’s only hours later, when his siblings have stopped knocking and Alec can see the first rays of sun shining through his window, that he moves from his position and slowly stands back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need some more fluffy Malec stuff in the series, but that sneak peek for 2x15… I can’t wait to write those in-between moments. Four nights in a row, huh? Hehehehehe. But, all in good time. More torture and pain in the next chapter. Sorry!
> 
> Love you lots, come see me at light-in-the-wood.tumblr.com. xxx


	15. We Are But Dust and Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearies, I apologize profusely for having taken so long to update. There was just so much pain in this episode (and in 2x15, from which I still haven’t quite recovered) that it was tearing me apart. I really, really struggled with this chapter, I found the episode’s timeline confusing (like, Alec must have spent a whole day away judging from what the others were up to after he vanished from the Institute and turned back up at Magnus’…), Alec’s pain was just so hard to deal with and generally this chapter drained me. 
> 
> I have to admit this was by far the hardest to write and I’m not 100% happy with the result. But I hope you’ll like it anyway and that the length will make up for it. It’s by far the longest I’ve written yet, over 13k!!! Pffffewww.
> 
> Anyway, quick trigger warning, there are once again allusions to self-harm in this chapter, but nothing too graphic. 
> 
> As always, thank you for still sticking with this story, for commenting and kudo-ing. And now, get some tissues and enjoy.

Alec doesn’t sleep at all that night. After he finally moves into the shower, washing away the sweat and blood, hands still trembling slightly, he can feel the pressure in his skull building. Everything feels sort of numb, yet there’s a pain somewhere in his chest. And it’s not from the wounds of the demon’s attack. Part of him wants to leave the injuries, perhaps as punishment, but when he notices the blood seeping through the shirt he puts on after the shower, he reluctantly activates his healing rune. Unfortunately, the _iratze_ also takes care of his split knuckles, and soon there is no physical pain left in his body, except the headache.

When Alec eventually leaves his room, he moves around in a haze. The voices and noises around him sound like they’re coming from a badly tuned radio, going in and out of focus. He considers throwing himself into work, but when he sees Izzy in the ops center, talking quietly to Jace, he ducks his head and makes himself scarce. He knows his siblings are probably worried about him, but he can’t stand to face them now, especially not Jace.

He grabs a tablet from the nearest desk and walks swiftly towards the only place in the Institute he knows no one will ever think of looking for him. There are practically no spaces that Jace and Izzy don’t know about, the three of them having grown up here together, after all. However, Alec had once discovered a hidden door in a supply closet he had hid in during an elaborate game of hide-and-seek, which led to a secret room just behind it. Afterwards, Alec had looked for it on the Institute’s blueprints and realized that it had once been used as a storage room, maybe about a hundred years ago. It wasn’t often that he needed some space from his family, but every time he had felt like taking a few minutes for himself, he had come here. And he had never told Izzy or Jace about the room, either.

Alec sits down on the cold, hard floor when he reaches the old storage space, leaning his back against the wooden paneling of the wall. The only light in here is the glow from the tablet, which he puts against his knees. He scrolls through today’s assignments and sees that Izzy has already handed in her report on the demon possession. Alec also notes that Jace has indeed been cleared of all charges and is fully reintegrated into the Institute. He can’t help but snort at Aldertree’s audacity in pretending he means well with Jace. Alec knows the new leader still has a large amount of dislike for his _parabatai_ , if only for the fact that he is Valentine’s son.

A different note makes Alec’s heart clench painfully in his chest. A Rite of Mourning has been set for the day after tomorrow, when Jocelyn, Welkie and the murdered Silent Brothers will be laid to rest. It’s been a while since Alec has been to the last funeral, and this one involves way more Shadowhunters than the last. And also one for whose death he is personally responsible. His mind automatically wanders to Clary, but he shies away of actually trying to come up with something he can say to her. There are no words that will make it better, nothing he can do or say to take away her pain or turn back time. He knows he will eventually have to face her, and Jace, too, but he doesn’t know what to say or do.

Alec spends a good few hours working on some paperwork of his own, knowing that he can’t hide from his responsibilities forever. He is just browsing news from Idris, when a carried-out arrest warrant halts him in his tracks. He frowns at the name of the culprit, as well as who has handed her in. A part of him is surprised that Magnus, after all these years, would finally turn on Camille and send her to the Clave without regret. But then again, Alec doubts that the warlock has acted completely of his own volition. Despite everything, Magnus has no love for the Clave and would probably rather like to see his enemies walk free then to give them up, especially if they are former lovers of his. Camille must have really left a mark for him to just abandon his principles.

Thinking of Magnus makes Alec close his eyes, heart once again pounding in his chest. The peace and quiet he had only dreamed about spending with the warlock yesterday, now seems way out of reach. How will he ever face Magnus again after what he has done? Just the thought of seeing disappointment or even disgust in those dark eyes makes him want to punch another mirror.

In the end, Alec knows he needs to do something to blow off steam, so he stashes the tablet on a nearby bench and sneaks to the weapons room to get his bow and arrow. He’s on the lookout for his siblings, when he makes his way to the rooftop, quickly making a beeline for his room to grab a jacket, but luckily, he doesn’t encounter anyone on his way there.

He can hear the sounds of the city, slightly muffled through the Institute’s barrier as well as the height he’s standing in, and just watches the skyline for a moment. The sun is standing low, sunset not too far away, when he eventually pulls out the first arrow, aiming it into the distance. The bowstring vibrates against his face when he shoots the missile, the grip of his left hand tight over the bow’s handle.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been on the roof when Jace finally finds him. He has seen the sun set and the lights of the city come on, while he shoots one arrow after the other into the night sky. His right hand is burning, blood, which is only slowly beginning to dry and crust, still dripping down his wrist. His arms burn, muscles tired from their extended rigid position.

He can’t stand to look at his _parabatai_ ’s face. Jace is all quiet voice and soft eyes, as if Alec were a frightened animal in need of calming down. And in a way, he is. His heart is heavy in his chest, beating out a painful rhythm, like it’s trying to escape from behind Alec’s ribcage. He is having a hard time breathing calmly, recognizing the beginnings of a panic attack. His hands are cold and clammy, and he wishes himself far, far away. Anywhere but the Institute. Anywhere but where Jace and Clary are.

Alec barely manages to talk to his brother, before the fear and self-loathing drives him from the roof. He can hear Jace calling out after him, but he doesn’t turn around. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he is off running.

He doesn’t know how long he runs, with no clear destination in mind. He just runs and runs, until his legs burn as much as his arms, until his lungs scream for air and he has to stop, lest he collapse in the middle of the street. He bends over, putting his hands to his knees, trying to catch his breath. The glamour is still on, so the mundanes walk around him without noticing the armed young man having some sort of fit right in front of them.

Alec closes his eyes and tries to focus on calming his racing heart and accelerated breath. When he had been younger, he had been suffering from panic attacks from time to time. He had never told anyone about them, being too ashamed of showing that kind of weakness, but of course Izzy had figured it out pretty quickly. There’s practically nothing he can hide from his little sister. She is much more observant and intuitive than people realize or give her credit for. Because of her looks and dazzling personality, people are quick to judge Izzy as shallow and conceited, but she has a big heart and very caring nature. However, she is still a Lightwood, not easily letting people in or showing too many emotions. She’s better than him at that by a long shot, but still not perfect.

When Alec had been about 15, Izzy 12, she had discovered him sitting on the floor of his bathroom, trying to keep the panic at bay. He had never really figured out a good technique to stave the attacks, except trying to ignore them. Being with Jace sometimes helped, the presence of his _parabatai_ calming his nerves. But sometimes, especially as they had gotten older, being near him had only made it worse. When she had found him in his bathroom, face hidden behind his crossed arms, Izzy had sat down next to him, taken his hand and started counting. Alec had quickly caught on that she was counting her breaths and had followed suit. Afterwards, they hadn’t talked about what had happened, Alec being too embarrassed and Izzy too sensitive, recognizing his reluctance to talk about his feelings. The panic had gotten better as the years went on, Alec putting all his energy into his training and leading the Institute while his parents were away on duty in Idris. And if one came on again, he’d start counting. He would focus on the feeling of his fingertips against each other, or the texture of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Sometimes, he would look into the distance and start tracking people’s movements to distract himself. It usually helped.

Now, Alec is back to counting. He doesn’t close his eyes, because every time he does, he sees his bloody hand, the same one that is still slowly bleeding now, and Jocelyn’s dead body on Clary’s bedroom floor.

Alec pushes himself up after a few minutes of using this technique, heart and breathing having calmed a bit. He doesn’t really know what to do or where to go next. He can’t be at the Institute right now, where he might run into Clary or where Jace and Izzy might want to try talking to him. He just needs some peace and quiet, but going back to his hiding place is also out of the question. He’s sure Jace will be on the lookout for him, and at this point, he doesn’t put it past his brother to use some rather unconventional methods to stop him from slipping past him.

Alec briefly considers going to the _Jade Wolf_ , but then remembers Luke. The werewolf is probably the last person he should be around right now. He had killed his significant other, after all. The realization hits Alec that there is just no place for him in the city, nowhere he can just hide and rest and try to deal with what has happened. Magnus’ place comes to mind, but Alec quickly shuts off that line of thought, knowing that he doesn’t want to burden the other man with his problems. He knows Magnus would try to make him feel better, and at this point, he doesn’t deserve to be coddled or taken care of.

At the same time, Alec feels a bit like a coward, avoiding everyone around him. His limbs are heavy, like they’ve been filled with lead and are slowly trying to drag him down into hell. Maybe that is where he belongs in the end. Taking an innocent’s life is a sin, after all. Alec is not technically religious, has never seen proof of a God or an actual angel, but he knows that there are more things between Heaven and Earth that humanity or even the Shadow World can explain.

Looking up and down the street, Alec eventually starts walking aimlessly, just wanting to keep moving. It’s getting late, the streets emptying and after a while, he only encounters a few late-night party goers here and there. It’s getting colder, too, and Alec pulls his jacket tighter around himself, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Alec just walks and walks, nighttime falling over the city like a hushing blanket. New York is technically never quiet, but a certain sort of silence still surrounds him. The streetlamps shine an eerie light on the empty sidewalks, casting long shadows that get lost in the dark, narrow alleyways between Manhattan’s buildings.

Eventually, he stops at the corner of a deserted street, noticing a small park on the other side of the road. He finds an empty bench and sinks down on it with a sigh. Alec can feel the exhaustion in his bones, his hand still smarting from earlier. It has stopped bleeding, the dried blood slowly starting to flake off. He turns it this way and that, regarding the red streaks between his fingers and thumb pensively. With his other hand, he presses a finger into the wound, a sharp pain shooting through it. He grits his teeth, but the pain helps. It makes the rising panic in his chest recede and keeps his mind from going down that dark path in his head. For now.

Alec doesn’t know how long he sits there, not thinking about anything, just pressing his fingers into his injured hand once in a while. His breath comes out in white clouds in front of his mouth, quickly getting whisked away by a cool breeze that has picked up. He just stares straight ahead, until movement against his leg makes him flinch slightly. His phone is buzzing in his pants and he debates whether to take it out or ignore it. Alec decides on the latter, but it’s as if he has now challenged whoever is trying to contact him, because for the next two hours, his phone keeps going off every couple of minutes.

Alec ignores it all and instead leans his head back to stare at the night sky. It’s too light in the city to see many stars, but there is still something comforting in spotting a few. It makes him feel small; compared to the vastness of the universe, his troubles are almost laughable.

When the first rays of the rising sun fall over the rooftops of the surrounding houses and the first people leave their homes on their way to work, Alec realizes that he has spent the whole night just sitting in this park, staring at the sky.

Knowing that his siblings are probably worried about him by now, he eventually takes out his phone to check his messages. There are 15 missed calls and 27 unread messages. Even for Izzy, that seems a tad dramatic. Checking the caller IDs, Alec quickly realizes that his sister isn’t the only one who had called him. Four calls are from Jace, three by different numbers from Shadowhunters from the Institute – most likely Izzy trying to trick him- and one call from Magnus. Alec frowns, feeling both pleased as well as annoyed that his siblings have apparently dragged the warlock into this mess as well. It’s not like Alec had thought that he could keep this hidden from Magnus, but he can’t bear to imagine what the warlock must be thinking of him now. He had known Jocelyn for a long time, after all, helped her with Clary and with hiding from Valentine. They had been friends, of sorts.

Shaking his head once to clear his mind, Alec scrolls through his messages. Again, most are by Izzy, getting angrier and shoutier by the minute.

_Alec, are you okay?_

_Alec, where are you? Call me._

_Please, Alec, tell me you’re okay._

_Alec, by the Angel, if you don’t call me within the next five minutes, I’m coming to find you._

_Pick up your damn phone, you big idiot._

_Alexander Gideon Lightwood, if you’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!_

_Bro, call us back, Izzy is freaking out. Jace_

The other texts are similar, Jace trying to placate, Izzy trying to rile him up. Izzy’s last one, however, makes his frown deepen and his heart clench painfully.

_I called Magnus, but he said you’re not with him. I hope he’s lying and I hope you’re okay. Just let me know you’re okay, big brother, I’m begging you._

Alec closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his brow, his stomach in uncomfortable knots. Despite everything, he hadn’t intended to make his siblings worry so much, so he quickly types out a message telling them he’s fine and sends it off. It’s early in the morning, so he hopes Izzy is still asleep, though he doubts that is the case. Especially with him AWOL and the constant threat of another demon attack, it seems much more likely that she hasn’t caught one minute of sleep, just like him.

There are two unread texts left, both of them from Magnus.

_I have to hand it to you, Alexander, you sure know how to properly worry people. Your sister called me three times already, looking for you. I suspect she thinks I’m lying about the fact that you’re not here and truth be told, I would feel more comfortable if that were the case. Call me._

_You promised, Alexander. Don’t push me away._

The last message feels like a knife to the heart, Alec subconsciously fisting a hand in his shirt. He knows that after what had happened on the rooftop of the Institute when Jace had been missing, he had promised Magnus to let him in. But years of suppressing his emotions and never letting his guard down has made it hard for Alec to drop his walls and let anyone close. Although he feels comfortable around Magnus, there is still a small part of him that is afraid to show all of himself, all the damaged and scarred parts of his soul that no one has ever seen. He’s afraid that Magnus will push him away if he knows how truly broken Alec is inside. Ever since he’s allowed himself to feel what he feels for the warlock, he has been slowly mending, but a small, dark voice in his head keeps reminding him that some things will never heal completely, will forever be ugly and twisted and broken. And Alec knows that he can’t lose Magnus now, not after everything they’ve been through to get to this point. But at the same time, that also means that he will have to let him close and trust that the other man will not recoil and drop him.

 

///

 

Alec spends the rest of the day wandering through the city. Ignoring his bone-deep exhaustion and growling stomach, he eventually finds himself on Brooklyn Bridge. He rests his elbows against the banister and looks out over the river beneath, watching the sun set slowly beyond the horizon. He briefly wonders what has been going on at the Institute, a small, nagging part at the back of his mind reminding him that he has neglected all his duties today, leaving others to perform his tasks. He can’t keep running away from his responsibilities or avoiding his family forever.

Alec turns on his heels and starts walking. He moves forward for quite a while, unthinking, until something suddenly makes him stop. Looking up, he realizes that he is standing in front of Magnus’ apartment building. He hadn’t consciously intended to come here, but now that he is, something inside him seems to right itself. He still doesn’t want to burden Magnus with his problems, but he’s not ready to go home yet. Because of his earlier fears of Magnus pushing him away, he considers just sneaking in and resting on the warlock’s balcony for a bit. He doubts his presence will go unnoticed for long, anyway.

It takes him less than a minute to find the fire escape and scale it up to Magnus’ floor. He stashes his bow and quiver away, takes off his jacket and sits down on the metal ladder. Leaning against the banister, he briefly closes his eyes and breathes in the cool night air. The sounds of Brooklyn, with cars honking and people chatting, travel up to him and make him forget what he has done for a brief, peaceful second.

Alec unconsciously starts rubbing his right hand again, the resulting pain helping with keeping his mind focused. It hurts where the bow’s string has cut deeply into the soft flesh between his thumb and fingers. He’s experienced worse pain, has _conflicting_ worse pain on himself and others, but somehow, this small injury once again seems to ground him. Pain always has this way of making his mind clearer and sharper, making it easier to focus. And besides, it’s justified that he is hurting. He had killed an innocent woman, a mother, a friend. His brother’s mother.

Remembering the look on Clary’s face after she had killed the demon, while he was lying uselessly on the ground, makes his eyes snap open again. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s done, but at the same time, he can’t think of anything else. His heartrate picks up again, stupidly reminding him that he’s alive where someone else, someone way more important, is dead. Because of him. Because he wasn’t strong enough to withstand the demon possessing him, couldn’t do anything to stop it entering his body. It’s like his mind is trapped in a never-ending circle of self-hatred, blame and the rising guilt threatening to crush him under its weight. Every time he thinks he’s reached some sort of equilibrium, the pain returns and pulls him back under.

A small movement from the corner of his eyes catches his attention and then Magnus is there with him on the fire escape. He looks serious, perhaps a bit sad, the corners of his mouth turned down. Alec wants to throw himself off the roof for making Magnus look like that. Pitying and unsure and careful.

“You okay?” the warlock asks quietly.

Alec hesitates. What is he supposed to say? There is nothing to say to that. Nothing but the truth. “I can’t be at the Institute.”

“Oh Alec…”

“Heard you turned in Camille,” Alec interrupts, the notice from yesterday popping into his mind. His eyes beg Magnus to change the subject, to talk about anything but how he feels right now. “How did that go?”

Magnus leans back against the brick wall next to the loft’s door. “Honestly? It was awful.” Maybe Alec imagines it, but for a split second he thinks he sees the warlock’s eyes glimmer gold. It’s gone before he can be sure of what he saw, though. “We had a lot of history, she and I. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

Alec almost wants to chuckle, but instead picks at his injured hand again. “It’s not weird. You say what you think.” As expected, he realizes how hard it must have been for Magnus to turn in his former lover. Despite everything Camille had done in the past, she had been important to Magnus once. He had loved her and Alec can’t imagine what it must be like to turn your back on someone you once loved.

Magnus watches his hands for a moment, seeming pensive. “Too busy to use a healing rune?”

Alec senses something else in that question, something that Magnus is only alluding to. He averts his gaze. “I’m fine.”

The warlock isn’t fooled. “No, you’re not. You’re hurting, badly.” Alec turns away, closing his eyes. Suddenly, he wants to be somewhere else again, far away, where he can’t hurt anyone. He can’t stand Magnus’ soft voice, just as he hadn’t been able to stand Jace’s earlier. They both seem so understanding, so careful with him, like he is about to break. “You hope the pain here,” Magnus goes on, holding out his hand, “will overpower the pain there.” He points to his heart. “I wish it were that simple.”

“I let a demon in, Magnus!” Alec bursts out. He hasn’t said it out loud before, not even during the briefing with Aldertree and Lydia. Something cracks inside of him after those words, now that he can’t take them back.

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know what to say to Clary. I can’t face her,” he admits, the thoughts pouring out of him now, uncontrollably.

Magnus’ eyes are soft again, but there is also something else on his face. Conviction. Strength. Trust. “But you will. Because that’s what you do, Alexander. It may take you a minute, but I’ve seen it up close.” Magnus smiles gently. “I went to your wedding. You’ll blow up the very ground you stand on to make something right.”

Alec remains quiet, not sure what to reply to that. He hasn’t realized the faith Magnus seems to have in him, faith to do the right thing, to right a wrong that, in Alec’s eyes, can never be corrected.

“I killed her…” His voice is so quiet that he’s not sure Magnus can actually hear him. But then the warlock pushes away from the brick wall and takes a step towards him. He hesitates for a second, arm raised, but when Alec doesn’t turn away again, he places a hand on his cheek.

“The demon killed her,” Magnus amends. “You are not to blame, Alexander.”

A part of Alec wants to turn around and run away, but he’s suddenly so tired and Magnus’ hand is gentle and warm and grounding on the side of his face. He wants nothing more than to lean into it, and because he feels hurt and weak, he does. His eyes close and his breathing slows. He can feel Magnus take another step towards him, his other hand coming up to run his fingers through Alec’s hair, gently, so very gently, cradling the back of his head. Another step, and he is right in Alec’s space. The young Shadowhunter desperately tries to hang on to the last shroud of his self-control, but when Magnus bends over and breathes a soft kiss on the top of his head, his whole body just slumps forward. He falls against the warlock, who quickly catches him around the shoulders and pulls him tighter against himself.

Alec doesn’t know how long they remain like this, his forehead resting against Magnus’ chest, the warlock’s arms wrapped around him, holding him securely. Alec’s hands cling to the soft material of Magnus’ dark coat, fingers fisted tightly against his sides. Time feels like an eternity and also like mere seconds. It seems like Magnus is waiting for him to decide what to do next, because he doesn’t move except to gently stroke his fingers across Alec’s broad shoulders.

Much too soon, Alec forces himself to pull away and look up at Magnus. His gaze is soft and warm, without judgment or expectation. Alec opens his mouth, but quickly closes it again when he’s not sure what to say.

“Would you like to come inside? Maybe rest for a bit? You look tired.”

As always, Magnus seems to read Alec’s mind, helping him formulate a thought without having to stutter his way through to the end. He nods once and gets up. It’s no use going back to the Institute tonight. Izzy knows he’s okay, she and Jace will only want to talk and Alec still needs to think about what he wants to say to Clary. Magnus is right, he needs to speak with her, but first he needs some rest. The sleepless night spent outside, so shortly after his own near-death experience after using the rune stone, hasn’t helped much in his recovery.

Before he has a chance to pick up his discarded jacket and weapons, Magnus catches his right hand between both of his. Alec’s immediate reaction is to try to snatch it away, but something on the warlock’s face stops him in his tracks. Magnus’ grip is warm and strong, though not firm enough that Alec couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. The thing is, he doesn’t want to. They gaze into each other’s eyes, dark brown into hazel, and somehow Alec knows what Magnus is asking. He hesitates, but then nods slowly. Magnus smiles softly and focuses on Alec’s hand. Blue magic crackles around it suddenly, and a pleasant warmth spreads through his fingers, up over his wrist and arm, and into his chest. He feels lighter somehow, and when the magic dies down, his hand is healed. Magnus is still holding on to it and Alec is glad. He’s not ready to let go yet. The warlock leads him back inside and into the living room, where he makes Alec take a seat at the dining table.

“I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat in quite a while, hm?” Magnus asks, sitting down next him, hands still clasped together. The Shadowhunter only shakes his head, watching the other man’s lips pull up into a soft smirk. With a wave of Magnus’ hand, a full plate of food appears in front of Alec, along with a steaming cup of a sweet-smelling drink. Alec hesitates, regarding Magnus questioningly, then decides that resistance is futile and picks up a fork to dig in. The food is delicious, arranged on a large flatbread, the stew and vegetables spicy and rich in flavor. He can’t quite place its origin until he hears Magnus chuckle and looks over. “It’s from that Ethiopian place I’ve mentioned before. Next time, I’ll take you out properly to eat there.”

“It’s delicious,” Alec says, a small smile creeping onto his face. He wolfs down the rest of the food in silence, conscious of Magnus’ eyes on him. He knows they still haven’t really talked about all that has happened, but a part of him doesn’t want to break the almost comfortable silence between them. Picking up the cup, he takes a sip from the drink Magnus has conjured up. It’s spicy and warm, some sort of tea with cinnamon and ginger. The cup is empty much too quickly, and Alec sets it down on the table, casting a glance at Magnus from the corner of his eye. The warlock regards him with an open expression and soft gaze. 

“You still hungry?”

Alec shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “No. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re very welcome,” the other man answers, making the empty plate and cup disappear with a flick of his wrist. “How about we move this to the couch?”

Alec swallows, but gets up to follow Magnus around the table and towards the soft leather sofa. The last time he had sat on it, he had been trying to use his rune to locate Jace.

Before Alec has a chance of saying anything, Magnus once again takes the initiative. “I was worried about you last night, you know. You never texted me or your siblings back.”

Alec hangs his head, fingers twisting together, and he averts his gaze. “I know, I’m sorry. I needed some time to clear my head.”

“I understand,” the warlock replies, his dark eyes soft when Alec glances at him. “Sometimes you need some space to think about things, but please remember that I’m here for you. As are your siblings.”

As touched as Magnus’ words make him feel, the mention of Jace and Izzy lets his heart once again contract painfully. “I don’t… I don’t know how… _what_ I’m going to say to Jace. It’s not just Clary, I also killed my brother’s mother. He never got the chance to get to know her properly.” It’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since Jace had returned from the City of Bones on that cursed night. It should have been a happy moment, but instead, Alec had to come to terms with not only having killed an innocent woman, but it also being his _parabatai_ ’s birth mother. A mother he had never known, who he had never had the chance of getting to know. After everything he had gone through, after escaping Valentine’s clutches and returning home, he should have had the time to sit down and talk to his mother, hear her side of the story and then make up his own opinion about his parents. But now, Alec has robbed him of that chance and left him with only one parent, an abusive, manipulative psychopath.

“Alexander,” Magnus’ voice snaps him out of his spiraling thoughts. He once again takes Alec’s hand between both of his, the bronze skin warm in contrast to the cool touch of the metal around his fingers. “Look at me.” His voice is gentle, yet firm, and Alec can’t but obey. “This is not your fault. I know words won’t make it better, but I will say it for as long as I have to, until you believe me that this is _not_ your fault. It is a tragedy, a horrible, _horrible_ tragedy, but you are not to blame. I know you’re hurting and I know you feel like you are alone in this pain, but you’re not. You’re not.” Magnus raises Alec’s hand to his lips and presses a hard kiss against the back of it, eyes squeezing closed for a moment. Alec’s heart stutters in his chest, a warm shiver working its way across his back, and he swallows against the forming lump in his throat. Magnus lets go of his hand then, and takes Alec’s face between his own, fingertips brushing through the messy strands of hair at his temples, palms dragging against his cheeks. Alec stares at the warlock, hazel eyes almost losing themselves in the dark depths of the other’s ones. “No one blames you, darling, not Clary, not Jace, no one.”

Alec can feel his eyes begin to sting, tears burning behind his lids, but he doesn’t let himself cry. It’s bad enough that he had already broken down earlier, he doesn’t want to dump any more emotional baggage on Magnus. As much as he appreciates his attempt at comfort, at reassurance, deep down Alec knows that this will take much more than words, much longer than tonight, possibly forever, to come to terms with what he has done. There will most likely always be a part of him that will blame himself.

He doesn’t say anything, but returns Magnus’ intense look with what he hopes is a small, convincing smile. The warlock hesitates, brows drawn together, and for a moment, all Alec wants to do is kiss the crease above the ridge of his nose away. But then Magnus’ expression softens once more and he leans forward to place a kiss on Alec’s forehead instead.

Afterwards, they don’t really talk, just leaning against each other on the soft leather sofa, hands tangled together and Alec’s head resting against Magnus’ shoulder. The warlock gently cards his fingers through the dark mop of hair, the gesture soothing Alec’s frayed nerves and lulling him into a light doze. It’s late, the sun having long set behind Manhattan’s skyscrapers, and the last two restless nights are finally catching up to Alec. He feels tired to the bone, exhausted on more than a physical level. He can’t quite suppress a yawn, turning his head against his own shoulder to stifle it. He feels the vibrations of Magnus’ quiet chuckle against his upper arm and turns towards him.

“Time for bed, I think,” Magnus says softly, eyes shining in the dimmed light of the loft. Before Alec can voice his reluctance of going home to the Institute tonight, Magnus pulls him to his feet and leads him to his own bedroom. It’s exactly as Alec remembers it, soft, yellow walls and deep-red satin sheets. “You might find it easier to sleep here tonight. You can talk to Clary and your brother tomorrow.”

Alec tenses briefly, mind going back to wondering what exactly he is going to say to them, but before he can lose himself in his head again, Magnus steers him towards the bed and gently pushes him down to sit on the mattress. Alec watches mutely as the warlock kneels in front of him, untying the laces of his boots and pulling them off his feet, along with his socks. It’s like all the barriers between them have vanished, at least for tonight. Alec is too tired and hurting to even begin to feel self-conscious, even as Magnus pulls down his pants and removes his shirt, leaving him in just his boxers. There’s nothing remotely sexual about it, but rather feels like a parent caring for his child. Alec doesn’t even feel self-conscious or embarrassed like he usually would at his state of undress in front of the warlock. Magnus hands him the same shirt he had been wearing only a few days ago, and he slips it over his head mechanically.

Eventually, they both end up in bed together, Alec lying on the left side, sheets drawn over his shoulders, with Magnus on the right, both of them facing each other. Alec’s mind is finally quiet, thoughts slowing down with the heaviness of his drooping eyelids. Magnus is still fully dressed and he is lying on the covers, instead of under them. Somehow, the silence between them doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. In fact, Alec is glad that they haven’t really spoken much tonight. He values the words Magnus had spoken earlier, especially because he hadn’t been forced to say anything in return, even though a small part of him knows that it will take some time for them to have an effect. Alec has never been the most talkative person, specifically when it comes to his own feelings, but knowing that someone is there, someone who will prop him up when he himself can’t, who will catch him and hold him close, is worth more than words of reassurance and comfort. And even though Magnus had uttered those too, it’s the sentiment behind it, the little gestures, like getting him food, kissing his forehead and simply caring for him, that mean the most.

Alec can barely hold his eyes open, so he stops fighting the fatigue and lets sleep take him. The last thing he feels is Magnus’ thumb gently smoothing the crease between his brows and whispering: “Sleep, my Alexander”.

 

///

 

Magnus watches Alec sleep. He takes in the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way he curls his hands under his cheek and draws his knees up to his chest. He looks smaller, somehow, his body deplete of the tension with which he holds himself each day. Magnus is reminded of the fact that Alec is still so very young, especially by his own standards, just barely over two decades old. Yet sometimes when he looks at the Shadowhunter, he can see all that responsibility resting on his shoulders, the pressure wearing him down bit by bit. It’s not that he thinks Alec can’t handle his duties, he knows he can, excellently so, it’s more that he thinks that Alec burdens himself with worries that shouldn’t be his own. He’s like Atlas, in a sense, trying to carry the weight of the world. It’s painful to think about how Alec apparently tends to hurt himself, or at least not take care of his injuries properly, if he struggles with emotional pain. The incident with his wounded hand hadn’t been the first time Magnus had realized Alec’s unhealthy coping mechanism. His heart breaks a little, every time he sees that almost childlike look in Alec’s beautiful hazel eyes, the way his shoulders hunch as if to protect himself against the rage of the world around him. He wishes he could share some of the weight the young Shadowhunter is carrying, but knows that at this point, Alec won’t let him. Magnus is glad, at least, that after having been missing for a day, Alec had come to the loft and let Magnus take care of him for a change. Baby steps, he thinks, knowing that Alec will always struggle to let others see how hurt he is. As long as he doesn’t push Magnus away, he will count that as a victory.

Magnus’ eyes travel over Alec’s sleeping form, over the dark thickness of his brows and his long, black lashes fanning out against his pale skin. There are dark circles under his eyes, but they look softer now in sleep. Magnus gently brushes a few errant strands of hair from Alec’s forehead, careful not to wake him.

Seeing the young man in his bed now reminds him of the first time he had slept over. It almost seems like a lifetime ago, when in fact it has only been three days. Alec had looked much more peaceful back then, when Magnus had stayed up most of the night, just watching him sleep. He had had to reassure himself that Alec’s breathing wouldn’t suddenly stop, making sure that the aftereffects from his coma would not catch up to him in the night. Magnus had been anxious, watching Alec’s chest rise and fall, much like now, watching his eyelids flutter and muscles twitch in the throes of a dream. He remembers how the light of the morning sun had hit Alec in just the right way, turning his skin almost golden and lighting up the tips of his dark hair in a fiery halo around his head.

Unfortunately, the day had then taken a turn, first his annoying ordeal with Aldertree, Raphael’s punishment (Magnus is still fuming at the edges about that), and then the unfortunate end of his relationship with Camille. He doesn’t exactly feel sorry for sending the vampire off to be the Clave’s problem, but it’s hard to rid himself of the feelings he had once harbored for her.

The next day had gotten even worse, first hearing about Jocelyn’s death and then having Clary turn up at his doorstep asking for his help in resurrecting her. As much as it pains him that his dear biscuit has lost her mother, he stands by his decision in not helping her. Painful memories of his own threaten to break through at the edge of his mind, but he resolutely pushes them back, focusing instead on Alec. Hearing about Alec’s involvement in the attack at the Institute breaks his heart all over again. He knows that Alec, of all people, will perhaps never fully heal from this ordeal, will always blame himself for something that is not his fault. He can just pray to all the deities out there that Alec will one day realize that the demon is the real culprit and that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. Magnus knows what it’s like to have a death on your conscience, he knows what it feels like to kill someone. Even though his own experiences don’t exactly involve the death of an innocent, he has never wanted Alec to feel that kind of guilt and pain, to have that burden on his shoulder on top of everything else.

The sound of his phone vibrating against the hard surface of a table in the living room snaps him out of his thoughts. He is out of the bed and in the next room faster than lightning, quickly snatching it up before it can wake Alec. “Hello?” he asks quietly, moving towards the balcony so as not have his voice disturb the young Shadowhunter sleeping in his bed.

“Magnus, it’s me,” he hears the familiar voice of Isabelle from the other line. “Have you heard from Alec? He texted me this morning, but he’s still not home.”

Magnus sighs at the anxious tone in her question, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “He’s here now, dear. Sleeping.”

There is a brief pause on the other end, followed by a relieved exhale. “Thank the Angel. Is he okay?”

“He’s safe and unharmed,” is his answer, full well knowing that Isabelle will recognize the distinction between being okay and being safe and alive. When there’s no immediate reply, Magnus goes on talking. “What about you? How are you holding up? And Jace and Clary?”

Isabelle huffs, no trace of joy in her voice, and Magnus can practically see the same pained look in her dark eyes as Alec had had in his earlier. “I’m fine. The demon didn’t make me kill anyone, after all. Jace is… okay, I guess. He’s hurting more for Clary than himself. He’s thrown himself into trying to find Valentine, but we haven’t really talked about what happened. And Clary…” Isabelle pauses and Magnus can hear rustling on the other line, “Clary is quiet. She doesn’t really want to talk to anyone and I’m not sure how to help her.”

Magnus closes his eyes and cards a hand through his own spiked-up hair. “There’s nothing much you can do, dear, except be there for her. Losing your mother is… never easy.” They both fall silent, Magnus’ thoughts drifting back to the sleeping Shadowhunter in his bed.  

“Will Alec come home tomorrow?” Isabelle’s question is so timid it doesn’t even really sound like her. She’s normally so self-assured and strong, but now she just sounds like a lost little girl, worried about her brother.

“I think so.” And he does, in fact. He knows Alec is still hurting, will be for a long while, but he also knows that despite everything, the Shadowhunter will put his own emotions aside and do what’s right, will try to be there for Clary and his brother. “I’ll send you a text when he leaves tomorrow. Try to get some rest now, dear.”

Isabelle sighs again, but it sounds somewhat more reassured than before. She bids him goodnight and hangs up. Magnus takes a deep breath and stares out towards the city, the distant lights of Manhattan creating a soft glow in the night. His heart feels heavy in his chest, and if someone had told him only a few short weeks ago that he would be here, now, feeling like his heart is being ripped in two for a group of young Shadowhunters, and one in particular, he would have scoffed and probably sent them to hell. Maybe even quite literally. It has been a long time since he had last opened up to so many people at once, but never for so many Shadowhunters. Of course, there had been Will and Jem and dear Anna, but things had been different back then. The way he cares now, for Alec, but also for Isabelle and Clary and even Jace, it’s close to an emotion he doesn’t quite want to name yet.

The thought of Alec, like always, draws him away from the balcony and back to his room like a moth to the flame. When Magnus steps into the darkened bedroom, he can hear quiet moans while his eyes adjust to the lack of light. Rushing forward, heart in his throat at the pained noises coming from the bed, he is by Alec’s side in a flash. The young Shadowhunter is twitching in his sleep, thrashing against the covers which have wrapped themselves tightly around his body. He is muttering something under his breath, too quiet for Magnus to make out, and throws his head back against the pillows. Magnus sits down at the edge of the bed, reaching out a hand to grasp Alec’s shoulder. The young man bucks against him, nearly shoving him off the bed, but Magnus tightens his grip and leans over him, his other hand pressing against Alec’s cheek. He feels hot to the touch, even slightly feverish, and Magnus coos softly.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Alexander. It’s alright, you’re safe.” His voice is nothing but a whisper, but it still seems to reach Alec’s ears, the thrashing slowly subsiding. “It’s just a dream, darling, just a dream. Shhh, go back to sleep.” And he does, after a few minutes. His labored breathing calms, the twitching and moaning stops, and eventually, he settles back down, face relaxing and heart beating slow and steady beneath Magnus’ palm. He rubs his hand across Alec’s chest in soothing circles, his other still carding through the strands of dark hair. Magnus’ own heart beats a painfully staccato against his ribs and he scolds himself for having left the poor man alone in the first place.

After he is sure Alec has calmed down completely and is sleeping deeply again, he quickly changes into comfortable pajamas, rids himself of the day’s makeup, and settles next to Alec on the bed. It’s like the other man senses his presence and scoots towards him subconsciously, seeking out the heat radiating from his body. Magnus watches him silently, stroking the top of his head, and keeps a vigilant watch over him for the rest of the night.

 

///

 

Alec wakes slowly, mind sluggish and limbs heavy, and reluctantly pries his eyes open. It’s still early, judging by the orange light filtering in through the windows at Alec’s back. He blinks a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes and his gaze immediately falls upon the body next to him. Magnus’ dark eyes are looking directly at him, face close on the pillow next to his. A slow smile spreads over the warlock’s face when he registers that Alec is awake and he raises a hand to brush an errant curl from his forehead.

“Good morning, Alexander,” Magnus says, voice slightly rough from disuse.

Alec just stares at him for a moment, wondering distantly if this is what it feels like to wake up with someone you care about each morning. Having their eyes on you, full of warmth and affection, almost like they’ve never seen anything more beautiful in the world. Alec thinks that it’s kind of like that, the way Magnus is returning his gaze, one delicate eyebrow raised in amusement. And at that moment, he wants nothing more than to wake up next to Magnus forever, he wants him to be the first thing he sees each morning, and the last thing before he falls asleep at night.

But then reality catches up to him, quickly, brutally, and his smile falters. Magnus seems to realize what he is thinking and a small sigh escapes his parted lips. Alec’s eyes are drawn to the warlock’s mouth, watching how the sun catches in the dark hairs of his goatee, how his pink tongue darts out to lick across his lower lip. Alec wants to kiss him, can see the same want echoed in Magnus’ dark eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat and sits up, red satin sheets sliding from his shoulder and pooling across his lap. “Morning,” he replies, scratching a tired hand across his scalp, barely suppressing a yawn.

Magnus follows suit and leans against the headboard, eyes trained on Alec. “How are you feeling?”

Alec glances over his shoulders and sees the concern edged on the warlock’s face. He can feel a pang in his heart at that, not wanting to cause anyone, but especially not Magnus, to worry. “I’m okay.” He can see that Magnus is not convinced, but they both let it go, knowing that pressuring Alec for a better answer is futile.

“How about some breakfast?” Magnus says after a moment’s hesitation, face back to a more neutral, cheerful self.

“Sure,” Alec agrees, part of him wanting to draw his return to the Institute out a little longer. He watches Magnus get up from the bed, noticing that he is dressed already, in a different outfit than yesterday, hair and makeup impeccable as always and matching the deep maroon of his silky shirt. He wonders if Magnus has slept at all last night, or if he had stayed up, watching over Alec until now.

“Great,” Magnus replies, clapping his hands together once, rings clacking loudly against each other. “Feel free to use the bathroom, I’ll just be in the kitchen.” He gestures towards the door behind him, then gives Alec a warm smile and leaves him to get ready.

Alec stares after him for a moment, the realization that this is the second time he has slept at Magnus’ in the last week, _in_ Magnus’ bed no less, hitting him suddenly. And both times, Magnus has made no advances and has instead left him to make himself presentable in private. It’s not like Alec thinks Magnus would ever take advantage of him, but surely the warlock has thought about… about doing _something_ with him, something more than just kissing. Alec definitely has, although right now, his thoughts are somewhat occupied with other issues. So instead of racking his brains about it, Alec pushes back the covers and taps around the bed towards the ensuite bathroom. It’s larger by far than Alec’s own back at the Institute, and just as elegant as the rest of Magnus’ apartment. There are bottles and vials and other trinkets everywhere, filled with nice-smelling liquids, colorful polishes and glittery powder. Careful not to disturb anything, he quickly does his business and moves to the sink to splash some water on his face. A look in the mirror confirms his hair to be in complete disarray and he quickly combs his fingers through the dark strands, trying to tame the mess into the resemblance of a proper hairdo. Rinsing out his mouth, he uses one of the towels stacked neatly on a counter next to the sink to dry his face. It’s infinitely softer than anything he’s ever had at home and he just rubs the cloth between his fingertips for a moment, thinking about how everything Magnus owns, from his clothes and his satin sheets to his towels, is just so incredibly soft. Much like himself, actually. Which is not to say that Magnus is not also steel and unyielding power, but sometimes, Alec is also privy to the warlock’s warmer, softer side. And somehow it feels really good to be let in far enough to see it.

After he feels a little more like himself, Alec moves back into the bedroom to get dressed. His clothes are in a neat stack on the chair by the door, his boots right next to it. When he walks out into the living room, he finds Magnus already seated at the table, a stack of pancakes and two steaming mugs of coffee in front of him.

“I hope you like pancakes,” the warlock says, beckoning Alec to sit down next to him.

The Shadowhunter smiles as he does so, his stomach growling quietly in answer. “I do, actually. But I rarely have time to sit down for breakfast.”

Magnus beams at him, seemingly glad that he can make Alec’s day start a little better than usual, and they both help themselves to pancakes, syrup and fresh fruit. The first bite feels like heaven and Alec can’t quite conceal the groan of appreciation when he swallows.

“Good?” Magnus asks, watching him with a fond expression on his face.

Alec nods emphatically, smiling at the warlock. “They’re amazing. Did you make them yourself?”

“I did, in fact. I’m glad you enjoy them.”

They don’t really talk for the rest of their shared breakfast, but the silence is more comfortable than awkward. Alec uses the time to think about what lies ahead today, when he returns to the Institute. And he knows he has to go back, no matter what.

When they’re finished, they just sit in silence for a few minutes, Alec sensing that Magnus is leaving it up to him how to proceed. “Thank you,” he says eventually, raising his gaze to the other man’s face. Magnus lifts an eyebrow, lips quirking up at the corner. “For last night, and for letting me stay, and for breakfast. Just… thank you.”

Magnus’ smile widens, the skin around his dark eyes crinkling, and he lifts a hand to Alec’s face, cupping the cheek gently. “You’re very welcome.” He hesitates, face slowly turning more serious again and Alec tenses slightly in anticipation. “What are you going to do now?”

Taking a deep breath, Alec closes his eyes for a moment, leaning slightly into Magnus’ touch. “I’m going back to the Institute and I’m going to tell Clary how sorry I am. And Jace.” He knows there’s nothing more he can do, really, except apologize and pray that the two will forgive him.

Magnus’ dark eyes have turned soft when Alec opens his again and the warlock nods slowly. “It will get easier, Alexander,” he promises quietly.

And although Alec is still not a hundred percent convinced, he appreciates the other man’s reassurance. They eventually say their goodbyes, Alec putting on his boots and Magnus summoning a portal to send him home to the Institute. Before he leaves, Magnus pulls the Shadowhunter into a tight embrace, cupping the back of his head gently when Alec slumps against him slightly, reminiscent of the night before. They stay like that for a moment, Alec pressing his nose into the crook of Magnus’ neck, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and vanilla and something earthy that is purely Magnus. He feels safe in those strong arms, wrapped tightly across his back and holding him up when his own legs struggle to support him. But he only lets himself enjoy the hug for a minute, eventually drawing back. Magnus’ hands drop to his elbows, squeezing slightly, and then let go when he takes a step back to make room in front of the portal.

“Call me, Alexander,” Magnus says and Alec nods once before turning his back to him and stepping through. He comes out right in front of his door a few seconds later and takes a deep breath. Before he can deliberate on what to do next, he hears the tell-tale sound of heels clicking against wooden floorboards and turns just in time to see his sister round the corner. She looks surprised to see him for a brief second, then rushes forward and throws herself into his arms. He catches her easily, holding her close and burying his face into her hair. Izzy shakes slightly in his arms, sharp fingernails digging into his back, but he doesn’t mind. Only now does he realize that he hasn’t really seen her after he had brought her to the infirmary after the demon attack. He had almost forgotten about her injury after the healer had ensured him that she would be fine. It makes him feel like a bad brother, completely having ignored the fact that Izzy, too, had been possessed, had in fact almost killed him. And on top of that, he had just vanished, leaving her to worry about whether or not he was lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against her hair, arms tightening imperceptibly around her.

He can feel her chest heaving against his, eventually drawing back to punch his upper arm none too gently. “You’re an idiot, Alec Lightwood,” Izzy says, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. He hunches his shoulders, eyes cast down to the floor, but his sister grabs his chin before he can draw back into himself. “Listen up, you tall moron. I love you more than anything in this world and I will continue to love you, no matter what. None of this is your fault and no one blames you, so neither should you. I know you don’t yet see it that way, but you need to know it anyway. And if I have to tell you every day for the rest of your life, then that is what I’ll do.” Alec’s lips twitch into the resemblance of a smile at her words, so like Magnus’ the other night. “I’ll tell you until I turn blue and until you get it through your thick skull, hermano.”

Alec leans down to brush a kiss against her forehead and she leans into him for a moment, before pushing him away once more. “Thank you, Izzy.”

She huffs, her quivering chin betraying her mock-annoyed tone of voice. “Oh, shut up. I’m still pissed at you. Don’t you dare ever taking off like that again and not letting me know you’re okay. At least your boyfriend was nice enough to tell me you were still alive.”

Alec chuckles, even though the situation is far from being funny. It’s more the fact that people keep referring to Magnus as his boyfriend before the two of them have actually had a proper talk about their relationship. By the Angel, they still haven’t been on a real date yet.

Before he can get lost in thoughts about the warlock, however, Alec sobers up a bit and looks down at his sister. “Have you seen Clary?” he asks quietly. He had considered talking to Jace first, but he knows Jocelyn had first and foremost been the redhead’s mother, not his _parabatai_ ’s.

“She’s in her room, I think,” Izzy replies, crossing her arms over her chest. “She hasn’t really come out to talk to anyone but Simon, but he had to leave before dawn.” Her dark eyes are thoughtful and a bit sad when she returns his gaze.

Alec swallows but nods, knowing there is no way around this confrontation. He will have to deal with Clary eventually, so he squares his shoulders and stands up tall. There is simply no room for avoiding her any longer. Before he leaves, however, there is another issue troubling his mind. “How are you feeling?” he asks, noticing how Izzy is rolling her shoulder, a slightly pinched look on her face.

She shrugs, giving him a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m good. Nothing a few _iratzes_ and some nice massages can’t fix.” A part of Alec doesn’t quite buy it, but Izzy goes on talking before he can ask. “Besides, Lydia’s had it much worse.”

Alec perks up at the mention of his former fiancée, once again feeling bad for only worrying about his own troubles. The last time he had seen her, she had been out of the infirmary and they had been at the debriefing with Aldertree together. “What happened?”

Izzy scrunches up her nose, sighing. “The wounds on her chest got infected, so they had to send her to Idris to get a proper healer to look at them. I don’t think the Clave will reassign her back here,” she replies.

Alec’s brow furrow, his stomach twisting together. He regrets not having had the chance of saying goodbye properly. They haven’t really talked since the wedding that never took place, but despite everything, Alec still values her friendship and what she had done for him and Magnus. “I’ll send her a fire message later,” he vows, more to himself than to his sister, but Izzy nods in agreement anyway.

“Good idea.” She hesitates for a moment, then reaches out and squeezes his arm once. “Go talk to Clary.”

Alec nods, watching her give him an encouraging smile and stalk off towards the ops center. Moving to his own room to shower and change, Alec’s mind once again goes back to wondering what exactly he wants to tell Clary when he finally works up the courage to go knocking on her door.

 

///

 

Alec knows as soon as Iris Rouse starts talking about blood and favors, that this has been a mistake. As much as he wants to help Clary, as much as he’s desperate to find a way, any way, to get Jocelyn back, this is not boding well. But he quells his rising suspicions and sits down to wait, while Clary gives him a reassuring smile and goes off with the supposed healer. Alec hasn’t really dealt with a lot of warlocks in his time, the only prominent one obviously being Magnus, but it’s not like others can actually compare to him. There is just something about Iris, how she had looked at him and denied him access that makes the alarm bells start ringing in his head.

Alec ponders about going after Clary despite Iris’ words, when he notices the little girl standing at the foot of the stairs, just staring at him. She’s cute, her hair pulled back and dressed in a bright pink dress. She comes closer after a while, obviously curious as to what the strange man is doing in her home. However, despite Alec’s attempts to get her to talk to him, she remains resolutely silent. When he notices the gills on her neck, his suspicions are confirmed. The little warlock smiles at him when he compliments her mark, but he is distracted by the muffled cry of a baby.

All hell breaks loose soon after, and he finds himself on the floor, head dizzy from being smashed against the ceiling repeatedly. Izzy is by his side, holding her hand out to pull him to his feet. She takes her stele out and draws a healing rune at the back of his neck, its powers quickly spreading through his body and clearing his minds.

“Jace is checking the lower levels,” Izzy says, her whip still hanging uncoiled from her hand. “I think Clary might be down there.” They rush down the stairs together, and sure enough, find their brother and the redhead, slightly shaken but otherwise unharmed, in the basement.

While Jace takes care of Clary, Izzy contacts the Institute to send help and Alec sits down the pregnant lady (she tells him her name is Leigh) to once again tell him all she remembers Iris doing. While Izzy fusses over her, the arriving reinforcements find three more babies in one of the rooms. Alec takes out his phone to call the nearest High Warlock, as is protocol in such cases.

Magnus picks up after the second ring and his voice calms something deep inside Alec’s body. “Alexander, are you alright?”

Alec quickly relays what has happened and five minutes later, a portal opens just outside of Iris’ house. Magnus steps through, a female warlock right on his heels, and heads straight for Alec, who is waiting for him at the front door.

“Alec, this is Mariah,” he introduces the blond woman, who simply nods at him and moves past to where the Shadowhunters are keeping the babies. “She’s a nurse, she’ll take good care of them.”

Alec smiles gratefully, reaching out a hand to touch Magnus’ shoulder. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course,” the warlock replies, returning Alec’s smile. “I never liked Iris, but I didn’t think she would stoop this low and break the law.”

The problem of errant Downworlders breaking the Accords hasn’t really come up between them, but Alec knows they are both acutely aware of the fact that they come from different worlds. Right now, however, he doesn’t really want to think about what that might mean in the future, he is just grateful that the kids are safe and so is Clary.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,” Alec says, but Magnus immediately starts shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it, darling, I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn after all. This is part of my job description, remember?”

And of course Alec knows that, it’s been the only reason why he had called Magnus to come in the first place. But part of him wants to scold himself for once again involving the warlock into issues that he created. Without him, Clary would have perhaps never gone back to Iris’ to begin with. “Still, you could have just send Mariah.” His voice is quiet, eyes downcast, and he can feel Magnus take a step closer to him, fingers brushing against his own balled fist.

“I could’ve, but at least this gave me an excuse to come see how you’re doing,” the warlock says softly, ducking his head a bit to catch Alec’s eye.

Before he can reply anything, Mariah comes out with two babies in her arms, Leigh following with the third. “We’re ready to go, Magnus,” she says, her eyes narrowing, noticing the proximity between him and Alec.

Magnus sighs, fingers quickly squeezing his hand, then takes a step back and opens another portal. “The children will be at Mariah’s for the time being, so if the Clave has any questions, direct them at her,” he says, voice a bit more formal but still warm when he addresses Alec in his capacity as High Warlock.

“Thank you,” the Shadowhunter simply replies and nods towards Leigh, who looks a bit scared as she follows the two warlocks through the summoned portal.

After the Downworlders leave, Alec and the others leave the forensic team to do their work at Iris’ house and make their way back to the Institute. They are silent when they walk through the lobby and into the ops center, Alec moving to an unoccupied computer to type out his report for the Clave. Clary vanishes to her room, while Izzy leans against his desk and supplies her input for the report. Alec can feel Jace hovering behind him, unsure whether to follow his sister or finally talk to his brother.

Before either of them can say anything, Izzy’s phone starts ringing and she takes it out of her jeans, checking the caller ID.

“Daddy,” she says, a warm smile forming on her lips as she picks up. Alec glances towards her after saving his report, and turns the swivel chair in her direction. It’s not unusual for their father to call Izzy, but judging from her quickly darkening expression, this is not a social call. She suddenly waves her brothers closer with a hand, and takes the phone away from her ears, hitting the speaker button. Alec and Jace gather around her outstretched hand to listen to what Robert has to say.

“You can talk, Dad,” Izzy says.

“How are you three holding up?” Robert’s tinny voice comes through the mobile device. There is a slight edge to it, but Alec can’t quite put his finger on why that is. He is slightly surprised that this, in fact, does seem to be a social call after all.

“We’re… okay,” Jace replies when it’s clear Alec isn’t going to say anything.

“I’m so sorry I can’t be at the Rite of Mourning,” Robert goes on, the ‘I’ in his sentence standing out in Alec’s ears.

“Is everything okay?” Izzy asks, eyebrows drawing together.

“It’s fine,” comes the voice from the phone in response. “I’m tied up with Clave business that can’t possibly be postponed and Max is close to his last trial.”

“How is he doing?” Alec finally speaks up. He hasn’t heard from his little brother in a while, only getting the occasional fire message or e-mail.

“He’s doing great, actually. Has bested most of his tutors.” The three siblings share a proud smile at that, knowing that soon Max will be out of training in Idris and eligible for his Rune Ceremony. “Again, I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

“It’s fine, Dad,” Izzy replies, her soft voice betrayed by the pain in her eyes.

There is a pause, no one really knowing what to say next, but then the oldest Lightwood speaks up once more: “Jace, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Alec tenses when he sees Jace’s jaw clench, but his brother only swallows once. “Thank you, Robert.”

It’s hit or miss with Jace, getting him to call Maryse and Robert Mom and Dad, but right now, the use of his father’s first name feels like a punch to the gut for Alec. It’s like there is a distance between the Lightwoods and Jace at that moment, a distance Alec would do anything to bridge.

“Alec,” Robert’s voice cuts through his thoughts, making him look back at the phone in Izzy’s hand, “how are you doing?”

He fists his hands into the legs of his pants, trying to ignore the imploring gazes of his siblings, and clears his throat. It’s unusual for his father to ask him about his emotional state so directly, but he guesses it’s not every day that your son kills an innocent woman while being possessed by a demon.

“I, uh, I’m okay. Dad.” He adds the last word as an afterthought, taken aback by Robert’s sudden interest in his wellbeing. It’s been weeks since he’s last seen him, just after he had found out about his parents’ involvement with the Circle.

“Good. I have to go now, but know that I’ll be with you in my prayers.” Robert pauses, as if deliberating whether or not to add his next words, then eventually says: “Your mother sends her regards.”

The phone is disconnected and the three of them look at each other questioningly. Alec wonders what’s going on between their parents, his father’s words seeming rather cold and disingenuous when talking about Maryse. Judging from Izzy’s slight frown and Jace’ perplexed expression, they have also picked up on it.

“I’ll see you two in the morning,” Izzy says eventually, pushing away from where she is leaning against Alec’s desk, and pockets her phone. Jace and Alec bid her goodnight as she stalks off towards her room, leaving the two of them alone for the first time since the incident on the roof.

It somehow feels like almost a lifetime ago that Jace had found him up there, practically chasing Alec from the Institute and into the night. Now, his brother watches him with those familiar mismatched eyes, his face guarded yet hopeful, arms crossed over his chest.

“Jace, I- “ Alec begins, only to be cut off by his _parabatai_.

“I said it two days ago and I will say it again, Alec, this wasn’t your fault.”

Alec swallows against the lump in his throat, forcing himself to keep looking into Jace’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says after a brief pause, willing his brother to let him speak. “I am so, _so_ sorry. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. I think what happened today once again proved that. But you need to know, how sorry I am for… for taking away your mother.”

Jace regards him, an unreadable expression on his face, then drops his arms and steps closer. Alec can’t help but flinch slightly when his brother extends his hands, but they only settle on his shoulders gently, Jace bending forward so his head is level with Alec’s. “You didn’t take her away, the demon did. The only one to blame is Valentine, but certainly not you, and I will hunt him down for what he’s done to Clary. I love you, Alec, and nothing is gonna change that.”

It’s the second time today one of his siblings has said that to him, and Alec feels something settle inside of his chest. The _parabatai_ rune at his side is pulsing with their closeness, once again affirming their strong bond. Despite everything that has happened, Alec’s coma, Jace’s confinement at the City of Bones and then the demon attack, their shared connection is sure and ever present, reassuring Alec maybe more than Jace’s words can. He knows Jocelyn’s death will weigh forever on his mind, but over time, perhaps, he can learn to live with the pain he has caused and the guilt he has loaded onto his own shoulders.

He gives Jace a small smile, lips turning up at the corners, and the returning one he gets from his brother is enough to make his heart feel a least a tiny bit lighter.

Jace squeezes his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there, before letting go and straightening up. “Let’s go get some sleep, Alec. And then we’ll take each day as it comes.”

The Rite of Mourning is set for tonight, so that leaves them all a few hours to catch some sleep. Alec nods, getting up from his chair and following his brother towards their respective rooms. They don’t talk on the way, both lost in thought, and when his own door closes behind Alec, he immediately drops onto his bed, fully dressed.

The sheets feel almost scratchy against his cheek compared to the high-thread-count ones of Magnus’ bed. Alec turns on his back, staring at the ceiling, eyes following the small crack in the paint that zigzags from one side to the other. His mind is restless and he knows that he will find no sleep tonight, so he just lies there, letting the thoughts run wild in his head. They are not really coherent, so he doesn’t try to examine them one by one, instead letting them flitter from one end of his mind to the other. He can feel the panic rising and falling inside his chest like the waves of a stormy ocean, turmoil boiling under the surface. He feels stretched thin, like it’s threatening to tear him apart at the seams, only an unknown force still holding his body together. Barely.

A slight movement against his leg makes him flinch before the realizes it’s just the vibration of his phone. When he pulls it out, he can see a text message from Magnus. The words are in a different language, which he doesn’t know or understand.

_What does it mean?_ he texts back after a moment.

_It means ‘Hail and farewell’. I will be with you in thought tonight, darling._

Alec stares at Magnus’ reply and feels tears welling up in his eyes. It’s the custom salute for the dead, used by Shadowhunters for their fallen brothers and sisters. He hadn’t realized that Magnus knew about those words, but part of him thinks he shouldn’t be surprised. The warlock has been alive much longer than any of them and has dealt with Shadowhunters almost all of his life, so it seems likely that he has picked up on a few customs as well.

It takes Alec a few minutes to calm down, hand furiously wiping the tears away although no one can see them in the privacy of his own room. Eventually, he focuses his bleary eyes back on the screen and types out a simple reply.

_Thank you, Magnus._

When the first rays of the moon filter through his window, Alec drags himself from bed and towards his closet. The white clothes of mourning are in its farthest depths, hidden behind hunting gear and sweaters and leather jackets. It’s been a while since Alec has last worn them and as always, he wishes he would never have to see them again. He takes off his clothes carefully and methodically, folding them into a neat pile. The white shirt and pants feel softer against his skin, the material smoother than his usual clothes. Shadowhunters almost never wear white, least of for every day, the color being instead reserved for mourning their dead. Alec knows most mundanes consider black the color of grief, but it’s a long-held tradition to wear white to Shadowhunter funerals.

When he leaves his room, he encounters Jace in the corridor, also dressed in white from head to toe. His brother nods at him and together they make their way to the main hall where the Rite of Mourning will be held. A lot of people are already gathered there, their white clothes standing in stark contrast to the dark runes peeking out from underneath shirt collars and sleeves.

Jace suddenly turns around, and when Alec looks over his shoulder to follow his gaze, he can see Clary at the entrance. His brother goes to join her, leaving him alone at the front of the congregation. His arm twitches at his side and he feels his heart pound violently, as if it’s trying to beat its way out of his chest. He feels Izzy step up next to him, but right now, even her presence isn’t enough to quiet the pained thoughts in his mind. It all feels too real now, as Aldertree addresses the Shadowhunters, and Clary and Jace take their place next to Jocelyn’s body. Alec can barely lift his head and look at them, his throat closing up and tears stinging painfully at the back of his eyes. He wipes his hand across his face as a Silent Brother calls out the name of the first fallen.

“For we are dust and shadows,” Izzy whispers next to him, the ritual words of a Shadowhunter farewell. Alec can’t speak, can’t repeat the words he is supposed to say, eyes blinking rapidly against the tears that are now flowing unbidden down his cheeks.

When it’s Clary’s turn to say her mother’s name, her voice breaks, unable to go on. She sinks against Jace, who puts his arm around her, and Alec can’t bear to look at them. He hangs his head, one hand cramped tightly around his wrist. It’s like his whole body is on being ripped in two, the pain making him want to howl into the distance. When he does look up, it’s to his brother’s voice: “Jocelyn Fairchild.” Jace’s eyes bore into his, but there is no accusation behind them, just an immense sadness. Alec lets out a breath of air, sensing Izzy’s gaze on him.

“Ave atque vale,” he croaks out with the rest of the congregation, his final farewell to the fallen Shadowhunters. “Hail and farewell.”

Clary and Jace join them for the last part of the ritual and up close, each of Clary’s sobs feels like a knife to Alec’s heart. The Silent Brothers touch their steles to each of the fallen, then raise their arms towards the sky to release the souls towards Heaven.

There is something almost beautiful about it, the way the mourning rune lights up and, like glowing dust, guides the Shadowhunters on their last journey. The Institute’s skylight opens and Alec watches through eyes blurred by tears, as the souls escape into the night, joining the stars high up above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m honestly shattered, but I hope the struggle to bring this emotional turmoil to page was worth the wait. Anyway, next chapter should be a much happier one, becaaaaause: it’s finally dating time! Now we’re getting into the gist of it! Wohooo! Finally, lovey-dovey Malec!
> 
> On a sidenote, I have in fact written a lot of 2x07 already, and I have to say, I will probably have to raise the rating once again. Hope you guys are not too disappointed about that. ;)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr (like the two lovely anons who asked about a new update. It’s just past midnight here, so I guess it’s not Sunday anymore. Sorry about that…) at light-in-the-wood. xxx


	16. Seventeen Thousand and One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry that this has once again taken so long. What can I say, real life is a bitch. But here we are, the date night episode! Wohoo! Can’t believe I’ve made it this far. 
> 
> Now, 2x18 has left me a complete mess, so please enjoy the slight angst but eventual giddy happiness of this chapter. Honestly, that episode though… It was so good!!! I’m kinda miffed about the fact that I obviously couldn’t include that 1x06 flashback, but I think I’ll eventually rework some of the chapters and put it in then. 
> 
> As for 2x07… holy moly. Let’s just say I will have to throw out most of the eight pages of notes I had already made on their first time, but honestly, I’ve never done anything with more pleasure. Because that first time… asdfghjkl.
> 
> Anyway, long story short, thanks to anyone who’s still reading this story and all of you who have commented and left kudos. It means the world to me! Now go enjoy this (hopefully lovely) Malec date chapter!

After the funeral, things at the Institute go back to normal almost immediately, perhaps uncomfortably fast. Most Shadowhunters are used to losing loved ones or friends or colleagues, so they try not to dwell on those feelings of sadness and despair for too long. There is simply no time for long periods of grief.

Alec throws himself into work, getting up early and working until late at night, taking more shifts than is perhaps healthy and going on patrols almost every day. He is not so much avoiding Clary and his siblings as he is keeping himself busy with work. He knows Izzy worries, can feel her gaze on him at breakfast or on the rare occasions they cross paths in the ops center. Jace also seems busy with other things, spending a lot of time in Clary’s room, probably comforting her. Alec doesn’t really want to think too hard about what that means, he still feels bad enough for what has happened.

It’s just past sunset when Alec finally returns from another patrol, tiredly dropping off his bow and arrow in the weapons room and heading back to the ops center to write his report. Since the funeral three days ago, he hasn’t been sleeping well. It’s not so much that his dreams are plagued by nightmares, but rather that he has trouble falling asleep in the first place, usually tossing and turning for hours to catch maybe a total of two to three hours of sleep each night. Without the re-activation of his stamina rune, he would have probably dropped a while ago.

When he’s finished typing up his report about an uneventful patrol, he scrubs a tired hand across his face, rubbing the space between his eyebrows to massage away the consistent tension there. The click of heels behind make him sit up straight, the hand dropping from his face, and then Izzy is there, leaning against the side of his desk. “It’s almost like you’re avoiding me, big brother,” she says, voice playful but with an underlying serious note.

Alec looks up at her. She looks like she always does, dark eyes intense, black hair in waves around her face, lips blood red. And yet there is something about her that seems different, something Alec can’t quite put his finger on. Since the funeral, they haven’t really talked, Alec too focused on work and Izzy intent on helping Clary, and by extension Jace, through her loss. Maybe it’s the slightly haunted look in his sister’s eyes, the intermittent twitch of the hand clasped around her elbow, but Alec puts it down to her still struggling to come to terms with the demon attack and the loss of the Soul Sword.

“I’m not avoiding you, I’ve just been busy,” Alec replies, and technically, it’s not a lie.

“Right,” she shoots back, one delicate eyebrow raised in skepticism. “You know, sometimes, relationships take some care and effort, big brother, especially when you have other things on your mind.”

She doesn’t elaborate and he has no idea what to reply to those cryptic words. “What?”

Izzy sighs, pushing a lose strand of her behind her ear and for once dropping the subject altogether. “Aldertree cleared me for a mission. Clary and I are going to the Citadel tonight. Hopefully the Iron Sisters can help us retrieve the Soul Sword from Valentine.”

Alec hums in agreement, then frowns. “Wait, why is Clary going?”

Izzy gives him a pointed look. “She wanted to. And besides, I think it’s good for her to do something instead of sitting around all day.” She doesn’t elaborate, but it doesn’t take a genius to know what she’s alluding to.

“Well, be safe, then,” he says eventually, giving his sister a slightly forced smile.

She narrows her eyes at him, but then seems to decide not to push further and just puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “I will. Go get some sleep. You’re working too much.” With that, Izzy pushes away from the desk and leaves him to his own thoughts.

Alec watches her go, remembering how it had always been her dream as a young girl to become an Iron Sister and how well he still thinks she would have done among them. Part of him is glad that Izzy hasn’t actually joined their ranks, because he wouldn’t have gotten to see her often, if at all. Men have no direct access to the Citadel, after all, and it’s not like the Iron Sisters can just go on holiday when they want. Much like the Silent Brothers, they pretty much dedicate their whole lives to serving their people.

Sighing, Alec finishes up his work and heads for his room. Maybe tonight is the night he will finally get a few hours more of sleep, because it’s just past seven at night. He hasn’t even reached his door yet, however, when a flame ignites just in front of him, levitating in the air in front of his face. He holds his hand out and the fire message gently flutters down onto his palm.

_Alexander, I need you. It’s an emergency._

His heart does a painful jump in his chest, sending his thoughts into overdrive. He would recognize that elegant handwriting anywhere. Alec’s off running before he can even form a conscious thought in his head. The only thing he can think about is that Magnus needs him. What if he is in danger? What if Valentine or one of his men has gotten to him? It doesn’t bare thinking about what terrible thing might have happened to the warlock. Especially considering their sporadic interaction lately. Ever since the funeral, Magnus had texted him almost every day, telling him of his day, a funny anecdote of a client or some small detail from his past. He had never once asked how Alec was feeling, for which he had been immensely grateful. He knows that Magnus had been both trying to distract him with trivial things as well as getting him to open up to see how he was doing. Alec’s replies had been short and somewhat distant, which hadn’t been enough to chase the warlock away, however. Alec still isn’t sure how Magnus hasn’t already given up on him. Part of him knows he’s more trouble than he’s worth, even after the tentative steps they have taken towards each other. It’s not like he wants to push Magnus away, but with a war looming over their heads, Valentine still at large and everything that has happened with the demon attack and Jocelyn’s death, he knows that he can’t have what he wants. It’s part of his punishment, keeping Magnus away, keeping himself away. He knows that if he lets himself feel any more for the warlock, he will never be able to shut his feelings off.

His heart is pounding on the way to Magnus’ apartment and the muscles in his legs burn from running hard, pushing his body to get there faster. He prays to the Angel that Magnus is okay and that he won’t find the remains of an attack or worse at his place.

When the redbrick building finally looms in front of him, he barely slows down to a jog, dashing through the doors and skipping past the elevator. Panting, Alec takes the stairs two at a time, the runes for endurance, strength and speed tingling on his skin. When he comes out on Magnus’ floor, he runs towards the loft’s doors, taking in the calm and peaceful silence around him in passing. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary and he can sense no immediate danger, but he still pushes the door to the apartment open without knocking.

“Magnus,” he calls, eyes immediately falling on the warlock, glass in one hand and a notepad in the other. He looks fine, a little surprised even at Alec just barging into his home like this, and a weight falls off his shoulders in relief. Trying not to show how scared he had been only seconds ago, he steps towards the other man, breathing still slightly elevated. “I got your fire message. What’s the emergency?” The content of the jar in Magnus’ hand catches his attention and he draws his brows together, looking puzzled. “Are those…?”

“Fangs? Yes. Very potent. Good for digestion,” the warlock replies. He holds the jar out towards Alec with a questioning look, eyebrows raised. Alec waves him off with a hand. Magnus puts down the glass of vampire fangs and in turn raises his hands in a placating manner. “I’m sorry about the emergency call, but it was the only way to get your attention.” He looks apologetic, but there is also something else in his gaze, like he is daring Alec to contradict him about the whole attention thing. And he knows he can’t, because although Magnus hasn’t said it and only alluded to it, Alec know he’s been avoiding him. It’s not fair, neither to Magnus nor to himself, but he feels so incredibly out of his depths. He wants nothing more than to just let this… _thing_ between them run its course and see where it takes them, but at the same time, he can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve to have this and will only botch this up eventually.

“Well,” he says, returning Magnus’ gaze, “since you’re okay, I should probably get back.”

He turns to leave, but the warlock’s next words halt him in his tracks. “I’m not okay… because you’re not okay.” Alec swallows, briefly closing his eyes. He hadn’t thought Magnus would bring this whole thing up again, especially after that long talk they had before the Rite of Mourning, but apparently, the warlock isn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. He can hear Magnus sigh behind him, then he moves around to stand in front of him, blocking the door to the apartment. It’s not a threatening or caging gesture, but it is a form of confrontation. It seems Magnus has finally stopped dancing around Alec, no longer willing to wait for him to make the first move and come to terms with what has happened. He looks determined, even hopeful, but his eyes are still soft when they regard Alec waiting stiffly for Magnus’ next words. “Alexander… you’ve been to hell and back. And you haven’t stopped for a second, taken a moment for yourself.”

He’s right, of course, and Alec wonders if it’s really that easy for people to read him. He expects it from Izzy and Jace, but no one else. Not that Magnus is just anyone, but they haven’t known each other for that long, after all. Ever since that first night after healing Luke, Alec knows that he can trust Magnus and that, surprisingly, Magnus also trusts him, but there’s still a difference between trusting someone and knowing someone enough to recognize patterns. Then again, Magnus had also seemed to know about his coping mechanism after Jocelyn’s death. The way he had held his hand and healed it, Alec knows Magnus had suspected the injury had been done deliberately.

Nevertheless, Alec reminds himself that now is not the time to think about himself. “Magnus, we’re in the middle of a war.”

“There will always be a war,” Magnus replies, sighing. “A mission. A… a problem to solve. Look, I speak from experience. If you fail to grant time for the things you care about, you’ll forget why you’re even fighting at all.”

Alec drops his gaze, mulling over the other man’s words in his head. He knows he should tell Magnus that he can’t do this now, apologize and leave. This is not only about punishing himself for what he has done, but also because he truly believes that with Valentine out there the whole Shadow World is in danger. He needs to be stopped, at all costs. What he wants for himself shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t distract him from the mission at hand. He should go home, get some sleep and then get back to work, like he has done for the last couple of days. There is too much at stake and it’s not just the Shadowhunters, his family, that are in danger, but the Downworlders too, including Magnus. It’s them Valentine wants dead, after all.

Looking up, Alec locks eyes with Magnus, who watches him carefully, expectantly. He knows Magnus won’t fight him on whichever decision he makes, but in his heart of hearts he also knows that the warlock will not wait for him forever. It’s a miracle he hasn’t already decided that Alec is too much work and dropped all communication. He seems to genuinely care about Alec, surprising as it is, but if he continues to push him away, all that they’ve overcome already will have been for nothing. And then there is the fact that part of Alec think Magnus is right. If he just stops living, then what is it he is actually fighting for?

In the end, it’s the hopeful look in Magnus’ eyes and the butterflies in his stomach caused by that look that make the decision for him. Even though he is tired, even though part of him is scared what will happen if he lets himself feel too much, he knows he can only fight it this much longer. And he is tired of battling his own emotions. He’s already made a huge step at kissing Magnus in front of a whole congregation and thus calling off his own wedding. It will all have been for nothing if he lets this slip through his fingers now. So instead of making excuses and shutting himself away, Alec takes a deep breath and just tumbles headfirst into the unknown, hoping and praying and _trusting_ that Magnus will be there to catch him. “What do you have in mind?”

The warlock looks surprised but pleased, a slow smile spreading across his face. It’s enough to make Alec’s heart pound again, but pleasantly so. He can’t but return the smile, the corners of his lips quirking up slightly.

“How about dinner? We’ve been talking about that for a while now,” Magnus suggests.

They really have, so it seems about time to finally get on with it. “Sounds good,” Alec replies, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Let me just grab my jacket.” Magnus squeezes his bicep in passing, sending a warm tingle down his arm and up through his shoulder. Part of Alec is still in awe of how such a small gesture can elicit such a reaction in his body, even now.

When Magnus returns, he is wearing a long black jacket that fits him rather nicely. Actually, all his clothes fit him rather nicely, even though Alec doesn’t really know anything about fashion. But despite that, he always likes how Magnus dresses.

“We could try that Ethiopian place I mentioned the other day, what do you think?” the warlock says, raising a hand to summon a portal. Alec shrugs his shoulders. He hadn’t come here thinking about going on a date, after all, so he leaves it to Magnus to choose something he likes. “You’ll like it, I’m sure.”

With that, the telltale wind of the portal picks up around them, tearing at Alec’s clothes and ruffling his hair, whereas Magnus’ looks remain perfectly put together as always. Together, they step through and Alec tries to ignore that not-quite-unpleasant tugging sensation in his gut. He doesn’t quite recognize the area they come out in on the other side, but judging from the skyscrapers he can see looming in the distance, they are somewhere in Greenwich Village. Magnus leads him towards an inconspicuous looking establishment, wedged into the gap between one of those chain coffee shops and a convenient store. Weirdly enough, the sign above the door says _Luigi’s_ , which doesn’t sound very Ethiopian to Alec.

“I thought you said the restaurant is Ethiopian,” he therefore states, indicating the sign when Magnus looks at him questioningly.

“Oh,” the warlock says, chuckling while he holds the door open for Alec, “it’s actually part Italian and part Ethiopian. I know the owner, Luigi. He’s a werewolf.”

“Seems a weird combination.”

“It is, but the food is excellent, trust me.” Magnus winks at him, as they enter the restaurant. Alec looks around, taking in the slightly shabby but comfortable interior. He hasn’t really been in many places run by Downworlders before, only occasionally stopping at one during a mission. He knows Izzy and Jace frequent bars and clubs, including the _Pandemonium_ , but they usually go without him, knowing full well that he disapproves. At least, he used to.

A few heads turn their way when the door falls shut behind them and part of Alec feels that old discomfort rise in him again. Luckily, it’s much easier now to dismiss any lingering feelings of embarrassment about being seen in a date situation with a guy, and to just be in the moment.

“Table for two, please,” Magnus says to the hostess, who raises her head from her books at his words. She seems to recognize Magnus, judging from the slight widening of her eyes and quick, deferent smile. The thought stirs something inside of Alec. He is suddenly acutely aware of the looks they get from the other patrons, of how their eyes flick to Magnus and then to him. It’s a Friday evening, so the place is busy, though not overly packed. Most of the guests seem to be Downworlders, so of course they’ve seen or at least heard of the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Magnus is a respected entity in the Downworld communities of New York, if not the whole U.S. Some gazes also linger on him, especially on the marks peeking out from behind his collar. He shifts uneasily, knowing full well that not all Downworlders are entirely comfortable with having Shadowhunters in their immediate vicinity.

Before he can say or do anything, the hostess beckons them to follow her and she leads them to a small table, slightly secluded at the back but with a nice view outside of a large window.

“Here you are, Mr. Bane. Your waiter will be with you shortly,” the hostess says, her eyes flickering to Alec for a brief moment. With a tight smile, she hands them two menus and leaves them to it. Alec can see a few heads still turned their way from the corner of his eye, and he shifts slightly in his seat.

“Relax, Alexander, they’re just surprised to see me here with you. It’s not often that a Shadowhunter wanders in here, let alone in company of a warlock,” Magnus says quietly, carefully studying his menu.

Alec turns his gaze towards him, eyebrows drawn together. “They know who you are, don’t they?”

Magnus smirks, his dark eyes flickering up to Alec’s face and there is something almost predatory behind his smile. “Of course they do. As they should. So don’t worry about them. Let’s just have a nice meal together.”

It’s easier said than done, but eventually even the novelty of seeing Magnus Bane in company with a Shadowhunter, obviously out on a date, seems to wear off, and no one pays them any attention anymore. Alec studies the menu, confused by the mix of Italian and Ethiopian dishes. “What, um, what was that food you conjured up for me the other day?” he asks eventually, knowing full well that he doesn’t know what to order.

Magnus looks up from his menu and smiles. “Just some _injera_ bread with _kitfo_.”

“Right.”

There is a slight pause, then Magnus chuckles, closes his menu and puts it down next to his elbow. “Shall I order for you?”

Alec can’t help but roll his eyes at Magnus’ smugness, even though a warm feeling spreads through his stomach at their little back-and-forth. “Yes, please.”

When their waiter eventually comes over, giving Alec some heavy side-eye, Magnus smoothly orders for both of them, sending the server off with a flick of his wrist. He brings their drinks only a few minutes later and Alec’s eyes are drawn to the way Magnus’ fingers move around the glass’ rim. It’s a slow, almost hypnotizing gesture, and he has to tear his gaze away before he loses it completely. Taking a large sip from his own beverage, the warm, spicy liquid seems to bring his mind back to himself for the time being. It’s the same kind of tea Magnus had given him the night he had stayed over.

“Do you come here often?” Alec asks when it becomes clear that Magnus is waiting for him to start the conversation. He is immediately reminded of the last time he had said those exact words, to the cop at Luke’s police station, when they had tried to get the Mortal Cup. So much has happened since then, and it seems almost a lifetime ago now, when in fact it has only been a few short weeks.

The warlock smiles at him, shrugging his shoulders. “From time to time. It’s a nice enough place and the food is divine. My friend Catarina really likes the cuisine, she actually introduced me to Luigi.”

Alec doesn’t really know anything about Magnus’ friends or his life in general for that matter, save from what he’s read about him in the Institute’s files. It suddenly makes him want to know everything there is to know about Magnus Bane. “Is she a warlock, too?”

“She is. Catarina Loss? You must’ve heard of her, surely,” Magnus replies, taking a sip from his drink.

Alec is momentarily distracted by the way his throat works while swallowing, before he shakes his head to clear his mind again. “I, uh, yeah, I think I have. She’s a healer, isn’t she?” He’s never met Catarina Loss, of course, because from what he remembers of the Institute’s data on her, she doesn’t like working with Shadowhunters, instead preferring to help mundanes in human hospitals around the world.

“One of the best,” Magnus supplies. The way he says it, he sounds proud of his friend, similarly to the way Alec feels about Izzy and vice versa.

“Have you two known each other long?”

Magnus laughs at that, leaning forward on his elbows and grinning at Alec. It brings their faces closer together, so that Alec can see the restaurant’s soft lighting reflected in Magnus’ dark eyes. “Oh, very long, darling. I shouldn’t admit to how long, in fact, it will only make me feel old.”

“How old are you, anyway?” Alec regrets the question the second it’s out of his mouth and he curses himself for talking before thinking again.

But Magnus doesn’t seem mad or offended, he just raises an eyebrow and smirks at him over the table. “Don’t you have that information in your databases, Shadowhunter?”

Alec feels a blush creep up his neck and he grips his cup tightly. “Well, not really. It’s technically just an estimate,” he admits, casting his eyes down. There is a fine tear in the white table cloth, right beneath Magnus’ crossed arms.

“Good to know. And what is that estimate, if I may ask?” Alec can he the humor in his voice and he knows Magnus is just having some fun, winding him up.

“Something over 300 years, I think.”

Magnus chuckles once more, his eyes crinkling at the edges. It makes him look softer, somehow. Alec knows Magnus must be older than that, judging from the people he’s supposedly met. But then again, he’s also sure that Magnus likes to exaggerate. He looks young, still, maybe around 30, and it’s easy to forget that there are not 6 but more like 376 years between them.

“Interesting estimate. I wonder how that came to be,” the warlock muses, stroking a finger across his bottom lip, eyes fixed on Alec’s.

The Shadowhunter fights against looking down at the movement and instead shrugs his shoulders. “I think the Clave counted back from the first time you violated some law or something,” he finally says, rubbing a hand across his neck.

“And what fun that probably was. I honestly can’t remember. It’s been a while.”

They fall quiet after that, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Magnus watches him over the table, taking a sip from his drink from time to time, and just smiling that warm, soft smile of his. Eventually, the waiter brings their food and they busy themselves with eating. The food is indeed excellent and Alec digs in like he hasn’t eaten properly in days. Which, come to think of it, he hasn’t.

Magnus asks about Alec’s childhood, how he and Jace had first met, what Izzy had been like as a child. He also asks about Max, who he has yet to meet and what Alec’s favorite food had been as a kid. Alec shares these stories readily and asks his own questions in return, about the places Magnus had lived in, the people he had met, and when he had come to America.

“I lived in London in the late 1890s. Quite a wild time, you wouldn’t believe it,” he says between bites. The light catches against his rings when he gestures and part of Alec longs to feel those fingers on him again, like that night when he had stayed at Magnus’ before the funeral. “I sold my townhouse, eventually, and although Ragnor begged me to stay, I knew I had to see how much America had changed since the last time I’d been there.”

His eyes look distant for a moment, almost wistful and perhaps a little sad, and Alec wonders what he is thinking about. “And had it changed a lot?” he asks, trying to distract Magnus from whatever is causing him to look so sad.

The warlock’s dark eyes move across his face and his gaze turns gentle. “It had, immensely so. But I loved it. It was a nice distraction from London. You should’ve seen New York in the 1900s. It was a glorious time. Until the crash, of course.”

“I’ve seen pictures of the Institute from around 1910 once, I think. To be honest, the clothes looked even less comfortable than our hunting gear today,” Alec admits, clearing his plate with a last fork full of meat. The dish had been as good as the one Magnus had conjured up for him the other day, just this side of too spicy.

“Oh yes, the Shadowhunters definitely improved their clothing,” Magnus replies, chuckling softly. “But sometimes I miss how everyone dressed nicely and with care. Nowadays, so many people don’t pay any attention to their clothes anymore.”

Alec swallows, looking down at himself self-consciously. He knows he doesn’t really put much care into what he’s wearing, as long as it’s comfortable and practical, but he also doesn’t want Magnus to think that he is a slob.

“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean you by that,” the other man’s words jerk him from his thoughts. Magnus slides his hand across the table and settles it above Alec’s, squeezing slightly. “You don’t wear your pants half-way down to your knees, you don’t purposefully rip holes into your shirt and you don’t wear clothes that are either too baggy or too tight. You dress just right, Alexander, don’t worry.”

Alec lets out a breath he hasn’t realized he was holding and quirks his lips up into a smile. “Izzy does sometimes question how we can be related,” he admits, “what with her love for fashion and my obvious lack of interest in it.”

Magnus laughs, hand still resting on Alec’s. “Well, dear Isabelle sure is a vision. She has incredible taste, if you ask me, and quite the personality for a Shadowhunter.” He pauses, watching Alec’s face thoughtfully for a moment, before continuing. “You Lightwood children have been one of the biggest surprises in the last few decades, I think.”

Alec is taken aback by the comment, eyebrows climbing towards his fringe. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say you’re very different from other members of your family,” the warlock supplies after a moment’s hesitation.

Alec studies the other man’s face. “Have you… have you met many Lightwood, then, over the years?” It’s weird to think that Magnus had been alive well before his grandparents had even been born. And of course he knows the warlock had dealt with his parents during their time in the Circle, when they themselves had been around Alec’s age.

“A few, yes. And most of them I didn’t like.” Magnus doesn’t elaborate, and Alec doesn’t press him. His family isn’t as big as it once had been, wars and dying young slowly decimating their numbers over the decades. His father is one of the last decedents of the direct Lightwood line, even though there are still a few cousins floating around in Idris and other places around the world. “But there were also a few I did like, very much. And a few I like right now.”

At that, Alec smiles at him and can see it returned on the other man’s face. They continue to look at each other, hands still touching, until the waiter disrupts their peaceful moment with his presence.

“Would you like any dessert or coffee?” he asks, reaching out to take their empty plates.

Magnus looks at Alec questioningly, who just shakes his head. “I think we’re good, thank you. My compliments to the chef. And the check, please.”

The waiter nods and takes their empty plates away. With a sudden start, Alec realizes that he doesn’t have any money on him, having dashed out of the Institute at a moment’s notice.

“I, uh, I don’t-“ he begins, but Magnus, seeming to sense what he wants to say, just shushes him with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t worry, I got it. You can pay next time.”

Alec’s heart clenches at the suggestion of a repeat and his cheeks warm. He nods happily, returning Magnus’ easy smile.

After they’ve paid, Magnus suggests drinks, so they make their way down the road and end up at the _Hunter’s Moon_. It’s pretty crowded, but not uncomfortably so. When Alec checks his phone, he realizes it’s just after ten at night. They’ve been at dinner for over two hours, even though it had felt much longer than that.

Magnus walks towards the bar and leans across it, ordering something from the bartender, while Alec hangs back. He trusts Magnus’ taste, and when he eventually pushes an amber drink in his hand, he thanks him readily.

“You’re very welcome,” Magnus replies as Alec raises the glass to his face, sniffing surreptitiously. “I’m not much of a beer drinker, but my bartender friend swears by this IPA.”

Alec has no idea what IPA stands for, but then he really doesn’t know anything about alcohol anyway. Shadowhunters rarely, if ever, drink, and he generally doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. “Oh, well, I’m not much of a drinker, period, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Magnus grins, clinking his own glass with Alec’s. “Cheers.”

When Alec takes the first sip, he realizes that this is nothing like the nice spicy tea he had had at the Ethiopian place. It’s bitter, the white foam clinging to his lips, and it takes all of his control not to make a face at the sharp taste on his tongue.

Magnus watches him and frowns, brows drawing together. “You hate it.”

Not wanting to admit to it after the other man had chosen so nicely at _Luigi’s_ , he quickly shakes his head. “No, it’s, um… it’s great.”

Magnus doesn’t look convinced, but Alec forces a smile and casts his gaze around, taking another – awfully bitter – sip. “How about some pool?” he suggests, when he sees three guys just putting down their cue sticks and leaving the table. He’s played with Jace often enough to know that he is good and the competitive side in him finally wants to demonstrate some of his talents. So far, he’s always felt slightly out of his depths being around Magnus, so he knows he can use the boost in confidence.

“I haven’t really played in a while, but why not,” the warlock agrees and they make their way down the bar and towards the pool table. Alec puts his drink down on a table, grabs a cue stick and hands another one to Magnus. They set up the game and the warlock gestures for him to start.

Bending over, Alec makes quick work of the first few balls, sending them neatly down the holes. He’s always been good at anything involving precision and target practice, both at games as well as with weapons.

“You see that?” he asks, eyes moving over the table quickly to calculate his next shot. “It’s just like archery. It’s all about the aim, Magnus.” He moves around the table and looks up at the warlock, who leans on his cue stick, watching him.

“Who knew there were so many similarities.” There is a weirdly defeated look on Magnus’ face, which lets Alec frown. His eyes move over the table again, recognizing that there is no clear shot for him. No matter where he aims, he will miss the holes. The only thing to do would be to just let Magnus continue. But the competitive side in Alec doesn’t want to make it easy for the warlock, even though he could. So instead, he licks his lips, bends down and shoots a ball across the table, missing the hole by miles. But he knows Magnus now has no chance of sinking any of his balls, even though he will never be the wiser.

Sighing, he shrugs his shoulders, fighting to keep a smile off his lips. “Can’t win them all,” he says, and really, he shouldn’t be so smug about being all competitive and deliberately sabotaging Magnus’ game. But that small part of him just doesn’t want to lose, especially not on purpose.

Alec steps away from the table and takes a sip from his beer. The bitterness is still unpleasant in his mouth, but he’s almost gotten used to it now. When he hears the clatter of balls shooting across the pool table and falling into their holes, he turns around with wide eyes. Magnus effortlessly raises his cue stick and nods satisfied.

Alec steps closer, suddenly suspicious. “Wait, did you do your,” he gestures wildly with his hand, reminiscent of Magnus’ much more elegant movements, “ _thing_?”

“Haven’t you heard the saying?” Magnus asks, smirking at him. “’If you can’t find the one being hustled in the pool hall,” the warlock bends over, eyes locked with Alec’s, “then it’s probably you.’” And without even looking at the balls, he sends one skipping over another and right into the corresponding hole.

For a brief moment, Alec is dumbfounded at having been played like that when he had been thinking he had had the upper hand, but then he can feel the excitement rise and squares his shoulders, returning Magnus’ challenging gaze. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Alec replies, smiling. “Let’s play.”

And play they do.

 

///

 

Three rounds later, Alec has to admit that he is no match for Magnus. He comes close to beating the warlock only once, but then misses out because Magnus is definitely as competitive, if not more so, as he is. The warlock gets them new drinks between games, even though Alec never finishes his own beer.

“To be fair, Alexander, I’ve had much longer to practice. I was alive before pool wasn’t even invented.” Magnus winks at him, taking up his cocktail and moving towards the jukebox behind the pool table. “And you’ve probably been the best competition I’ve had in a long while.”

That is at least a bit of consolation and Alec feels pleased, the feeling overpowering the sting of getting his ass handed to him by the warlock three times in a row. An upbeat song starts playing, the bass beating almost in time with Alec’s increased heartrate. Over the course of the evening, he has felt more and more at ease around Magnus, his original reserve almost completely gone.

Magnus takes a sip from his drink, nodding his head in time with the music, and turns back towards him. “I suppose we both have a healthy dose of the competitive spirit.”

Alec gets up from where he is leaning against the edge of the pool table and follows Magnus across the bar. “I grew up with Jace,” he says as way of explanation. “I didn’t have much of a choice.” And he hadn’t had, really. His brother had never liked being beaten in anything, fueling that same kind of determination in Alec. Which is not to say that Alec himself hadn’t displayed a similar kind of behavior before Jace had turned up. Growing up a Lightwood had come with all sorts of demands, competition and challenges. But he had never competed with Izzy and had never felt the need in proving his worth by simply being better than others. With Jace, it had been different, he had wanted to be his equal, hence making him fight twice as hard to match his brother. Alec is, to this day, the better marksman, the better archer, and definitely the more levelheaded fighter. But he knows that beating his brother is not always easy in other disciplines.

“Some people can’t be around that energy,” Magnus goes on, moving towards two empty seats at the bar. “I, in turn, find it invigorating, as I’m sure your exes did as well.”

The mention of exes lets Alec’s thoughts come to a halt. Here he is, thinking about competing with his brother, when Magnus had really been talking about competitive behavior between romantic partners. It’s not like he can just admit that he has no experience with exes, period.

Instead, he puts his glass down on the counter, trying to keep his voice neutral and flat. “Lydia never complained.” He knows it’s a stupid thing to say. He and Lydia hadn’t even known each other long enough to be competitive about anything. Maybe about how to run the Institute, but it’s not like they had completely differing views on what was best for the New York Shadowhunters.

“I thought you knew Lydia for a millisecond before your arranged marriage,” Magnus cuts in, sitting down with furrowed brows. Alec opens his mouth to say something, anything, but it’s like all words have suddenly fled his brain, leaving only emptiness behind. Magnus watches him, brows drawing further together, so Alec just shrugs, slightly panicked, and avoids his gaze. Heart pounding, he can sense Magnus’ hesitation and prays that the warlock will not continue with this line of questioning. Unfortunately, this time Magnus doesn’t seem to recognize what Alec wants. “Wait. Lydia,” he presses on, making Alec look back at him with what he hopes is a casual, enquiring gaze. “Is she your only ex?”

Alec’s mouth hangs slightly open, and he feels like a deer caught in the headlights with the way Magnus is staring at him. “I just haven’t had, uh, you know… time for a real relationship.” He knows it’s a weak explanation, actually no explanation at all, and judging by Magnus’ incredulous expression, he doesn’t buy it for a second. Alec lifts the cocktail to his lips, desperate to change the subject, and takes a sip. “You know… This is… This is good,” he says, just as the alcohol burns down his throat, making his face twist in disgust. He puts the drink back down, wondering how the pleasant evening could have taken such a drastic turn for the worse. Only two minutes ago, they had been laughing and playing pool with each other, sharing stories and flirting shamelessly. And now, Magnus stares at him with wide eyes, like he can’t believe someone as inexperienced as Alec even exists.

“Alexander, just so I’m clear,” the warlock says, voice careful and eyes on Alec’s face, “have you _ever_ been in a relationship?”

Alec opens his mouth and thinks about lying, thinks about just telling Magnus that yes, there had been this girl once, and that he had kissed a guy back in Idris when he had been younger. He remembers telling Izzy about Jessica Hawkblue once, who had never even existed, after she had bugged him a few years ago about him never doing anything for fun. He remembers a guy with brown hair and blue eyes back in Idris, when he, Izzy, Max and Jace had spent a whole summer in Idris with their parents when Alec was 16, and how much he had wanted to kiss him. Probably because he had been nice to Alec and had been so completely different from his _parabatai_. But he had never done it, never kissed anyone before Magnus, never been in a relationship before. And although he wants to lie, he knows he can’t. Magnus will see right through it and it wouldn’t be fair to him. So instead, he closes his mouth again, eyes cast down, and avoids Magnus’ questioning gaze.

He can feel the other man shift slightly, perhaps uneasily, sees his hand reach for his glass from the corner of his eye. Alec debates if it’s just easier for him to leave now and hide himself away in his room, but he is tired of running away. So he sits down next to Magnus, face feeling hot and heart hammering against his ribs. Blood rushes in his ears so loud it almost drowns out the mellow music playing in the background. He keeps his eyes on the glass in front of him, fingers flittering nervously around the stem, while Magnus takes a large sip from his own drink. It’s obvious the warlock is uncomfortable now, perhaps even more so than Alec, the way he chucks the alcohol down his throat. “You’re weirded out,” he says eventually, eyes flickering to his left.

“Mmh,” Magnus mutters, putting down his glass. “Who says I’m weirded out?” He clears his throat and rubs the fingers of his left hand across his lips.

Alec sighs, feeling the sudden need to… not defend himself, technically, but at least explain why he has never made the experiences his siblings or other people his age have made. “You wanna know why I haven’t been in a relationship? Because of _this_ ,” he says, gesturing to the counter, but really meaning to incorporate him and Magnus, the whole evening and everything else that has transpired between them since they had met. “Because… I didn’t want to feel like there was something wrong with me, because I, I, I grew up in the Institute, because… I always knew I couldn’t have what I wanted.” He knows it’s not just because of who is parents are, because of what he is, because of how Shadowhunter society represses or at least denies the existence of people like him. It’s also because he has never let himself truly feel what he feels, or even think about it, in any real way. It’s also because having to live a lie for most of his teen years and adult life has left scars that will take a long time to heal, scars that have left him closed off towards most people. But he also knows that ever since meeting Magnus, he has begun to heal, to be more open, to trust and let himself feel things he’d been repressing for years. And more than anything, he needs Magnus to know that, to understand how important he is to Alec. “Until you came along.” He looks over, just briefly, and can see the frown on Magnus’ face disappearing, his eyes softening.

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” the warlock says eventually, voice careful and gentle. “Far from it. But you’re so… _innocent_.”

Alec’s been called many things in his life, but innocent has never been one of them. In a way, he is, never having had sex, never having even touched anyone like that or been touched. But in other ways, he’s anything _but_ innocent. He’s killed demons, he’s lied, he’s fought and hurt people, and he’s certainly no saint. “In some ways,” he therefore concedes, “but I don’t want you to treat me any different.”

“But you are different,” Magnus replies, looking over at him. “And it’s a good thing.”

They stay quiet for a moment, Alec mulling over Magnus’ words in his head. The warlock has yet to take off in a flurry, so at least the fact that he hasn’t done that seems to be a good sign. Nevertheless, Alec is somewhat desperate to turn the conversation around and move the spotlight away from himself. It’s embarrassing enough that after the great time they’ve had tonight, this whole thing has come up by accident. “What about you?” he asks instead, trying to shift the direction back towards Magnus. “I mean, you must have had plenty of exes.” He’s not so delusional or naïve as to think that someone as gorgeous, experienced and simply old as Magnus hasn’t had his fair share of encounters, romantic as well as sexual. And even though it makes him feel even more unsure about himself, he can’t help but wonder.

“What do you mean?” Magnus asks, casually sipping his cocktail.

Alec looks over at him, eyebrows raised. If he didn’t know better, he would think Magnus is trying to deflect. “You know what I mean.”

“Alexander,” Magnus replies, putting down his glass once again, “I’ve lived for _centuries_. I’ve been with men, women, seelies, warlocks, vampires… I djinn or two.”

Alec stares across the bar, lips pressed tightly together. Magnus is definitely deflecting, but if he has to have his embarrassing secrets laid bare, then so will the warlock. “How many?” For the most part, he doesn’t actually want to know a number, but Magnus’ reluctance makes him immensely curious.

“How many?” Magnus sounds so casual, but there is an underlying tone of insecurity in his voice.

“It’s not a trick question,” Alec says, shrugging his shoulders. “You can round down if you want.” They are both avoiding looking at each other directly now and part of Alec just longs to have the easy banter from earlier back. It’s suddenly gotten intense and slightly uncomfortable and he can feel this all quickly going downhill. But it’s too late to turn back now.

“If you wanna know, I’ll tell you,” Magnus agrees, but he is still hesitating. Eventually, he says: “Seventeen.”

Alec sits back on the bar stool and looks over at Magnus, completely surprised. “Seventeen,” he exclaims, smiling. He expected the number to be so much higher, but seventeen at least doesn’t make him feel completely like he is out of his depths. “That… that’s…” But then Magnus’ face shifts, his dark eyes flittering over his face, and Alec stops. Of course it couldn’t have been that easy. His smile drops and he swallows. “Seventeen… hundred?” Magnus turns his head away from him and Alec’s stomach drops. “Seventeen _thousand_?”

“It was all in the past,” the warlock quickly cuts in, chuckling uncomfortably. Alec can barely hear him over the swooshing of his blood in his ears, throat suddenly dry and heart beating painfully in his chest. He should’ve known. He damn well should’ve known. He just wants the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. “Ancient history. But right now, I’m _here_. With you.”

“Yeah, me and… seventeen thousand other memories,” Alec says quietly, still somewhat shocked.

“Look,” Magnus replies, tone serious. “I am who I am. And you are who you are. And all the magic in the world can’t change that, so… let’s just try to make the best of it, hm?”

Alec takes a deep breath and sighs heavily. He looks over and forces himself to give Magnus an agreeing smile. “Sure.” But deep down, he knows he can’t compete. How will he ever compete with seventeen thousand people, people Magnus has been with, people Magnus has loved and perhaps lost, people who will always be part of him, have made him who he is today. How can he come even close to all these people? What does Magnus see in him that has made him want to go on a date anyway? Granted, he hadn’t been aware of Alec’s complete lack of experience before, but he must have sensed something. And yet he had chosen to let Alec close, even start something that could be described as a relationship. But how can Magnus remember someone like him, long after is dead and gone, compared to the numerous others before him? It’s not that he balks at the sheer number – Magnus has lived for more than 300 years, after all – but rather at the fact that he’s afraid he won’t be able to give Magnus anything he hasn’t already experienced. Alec knows he’s nothing special, has never had any allusions in that regard, which is exactly why it’s so hard to believe he could hold the warlock’s interest for long anyway.

They fall quiet after that, both nursing the remains of their drinks, or rather, Alec just playing with the stem of his glass while Magnus watches the swirls of rest-alcohol in his. Part of Alec longs for the easiness from earlier, the stories and memories shared, the fun poked at each other. He’s let Magnus in and now the warlock has made a place for himself in his chest. Alec doesn’t know if he will ever get him out again, or even if he wants to get him out in the first place.

“We could go for a midnight stroll, what do you think?” Magnus asks eventually, giving Alec a tentative smile.

Not wanting to be rude and cut the evening short now, he agrees. They pay and leave the bar. The air outside is cool, but not unpleasantly so, and although it’s well past midnight, there are still a lot of people out and about, party goers on their way to the next gathering, tourists enjoying New York’s evening entertainment.

“It’s nice outside,” Magnus says eventually, while they walk towards Brooklyn Bridge. They’re next to each other, but the gap has widened compared to when they had left the restaurant together earlier. Alec hums in agreement, careful not to let their shoulders bump and to keep his distance without being too obvious about it.

It takes them a while to get back to Brooklyn, especially since Magnus seems unwilling to summon a portal. Even though he tries to act normal, Alec has a hard time keeping up the conversation. Magnus tries a few times to get him to talk more, probably also wanting to get back to the easy banter from earlier, but it’s not working.

They ride up the elevator to the penthouse floor in silence and Alec asks himself why he hasn’t already said goodnight downstairs. As nice as the date had started, the end has been a complete disaster. His heart hurts a bit at the thought that this is probably it, that the differences between them are too great after all to overcome them. He should have known that despite everything they’ve been through, that he just can’t have what he wants. Someone like him can’t be with someone like Magnus.

When Magnus opens his door and walks into his loft, Alec can barely drag his feet in after. “For a guy so used to portals, I have to admit, nothing beats a late night stroll through the city,” the warlock says, moving towards the living room.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly. “Gives you time to think.”

Magnus takes off his jacket and discards it on the blue armchair. “You must have thought a lot. You barely said a word the whole way home.”

Alec sighs, loudly, watching Magnus’ back for a moment. With every moment spend in his presence, it’s getting harder to accept that this is simply not working, that it is time to leave. The warlock bends to prepare himself a drink, while Alec shifts on his feet. He’s still unsure about what to say, how to end this without having to rip his own as well as Magnus’ heart out. “Magnus,” he says eventually, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “Do you think… maybe we’re too…”

The other man doesn’t turn around, but Alec can see the muscles in his back shift beneath his shirt when he supplies: “Different?”

He had hoped Magnus wouldn’t say it, perhaps wouldn’t see it that way and tell Alec to just try, but apparently he’s not alone in feeling in over his head. “Yeah,” he says, sighing heavily again.

“We’re from… totally different worlds,” Magnus replies, finally turning around.

“Different… _centuries_.” There is no answer, no words of disagreement, only a look of resignation in the warlock’s face. Although Alec’s heart is telling him not to, violently beating it against his ribs, in fact, he turns to leave. “Look, I… I should go.”

Magnus makes no move to stop him when he walks past him towards the door, but somehow his feet seem to drag against the floor, making him stop in the doorway. Closing his eyes, he tries to banish all thoughts of past relationships or lack thereof from his mind, of his own fears of not being enough, of not being able to compete, of not _mattering_ enough to be remembered, and for once, he just tries to listen to what his heart is telling him it wants. He’s spent years of his life simply running away, hiding, avoiding seeking out love and commitment beyond his family ties. But if he leaves now, he will perhaps never find out where this relationship could be going. If he’s honest with himself, his heart is already in it too deep and he knows that he is close to falling… he’s not sure if he can call it… but maybe? It’s just so different from what he’s felt for Jace for all these years, somehow more intense and frightening and wonderful at the same time. Like he’s standing at the edge of a precipice once again, ready to fall or fly. And he’s flown once before, at his wedding, when he’d left all the fears behind and just jumped from that altar, stormed down the aisle and pressed his lips to Magnus’ in a desperate kiss. He had flown then, so what is to say he won’t fly now, if he can just be brave enough to try?

He shakes his head once, licking his lips, then turns back around, suddenly determined. “Look, I don’t care how many people you’ve been with,” he says, moving back into the living room and watching Magnus turn around to face him, surprise coloring his face.

“I don’t care how many people you _haven’t_ been with,” the warlock replies with a small, hopeful upturn of his lips.

Alec’s heart is racing, chest rising and falling rapidly from one moment to the next. His eyes stray to Magnus’ mouth and all he can think about is how desperately he wants to kiss him. They haven’t kissed, at least not properly, not in any way that matters, since that first one at the wedding. Trying to shut out the nagging voices in his head, Alec takes a deep breath and steps towards Magnus, hesitating only for a brief moment. Then their lips meet, warm and gentle, and he breathes out through his nose. It’s like his body has been set on fire, the tingling from their point of contact working its way down his face, his throat and into his chest. His hand grasps tightly to Magnus’ shirt and the warlock’s own hands come up to grip his waist, pulling him imperceptibly closer.

The kiss is so careful and different from the one at the wedding, less urgent and passionate and demanding, but so much warmer and softer and slower. It equals the first one in sending the butterflies in Alec’s stomach soaring, in making his head spin, his heartrate climb and his whole body feel ignited with heat. Magnus’ hands squeeze his waist as their lips move against each other, shooting electricity down his back and making his skin tingle. The hair of Magnus’ goatee scratches against his face, and he can taste the residual alcohol on his lips, paired with something uniquely Magnus

When they part, after a short but sweet kiss, Alec can feel Magnus’ breath on his face and smell the sandalwood from the other man’s cologne. Their noses brush against each other as he leans backwards slowly, eyes still closed and bodies still pressed together. His breath comes out in short puffs, chest rising and falling quickly, as he opens his eyes, gaze cast slightly downwards for a moment. Alec is suddenly very much aware of Magnus’ experience as well as his lack again, but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. It doesn’t do him any good to dwell on things that he cannot influence and to fret over something neither of them can or should want to change. As Magnus had said, they are who they are, warts and all. They just need to work together and give each other a chance if they want this relationship to move forward.

Izzy’s words from earlier in the day come back to his mind and suddenly realizing what she had been talking about, he swallows, raising his eyes to Magnus’. The warlock watches him carefully, face slightly guarded, but patiently waiting, once again, for Alec to make the first move. “I hear that relationships, they, um… take effort,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes flickering back and forth between Magnus’ dark ones.

The other man nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m all for effort,” he replies, equally soft.

Alec lets out a breath at that, smiling in return. He knows there’s still a lot they need to talk about, but he also knows that taking everything as it comes can be healthy and right as well sometimes. He’s already almost ruined this because of overthinking things, so he just needs to stop and breathe and take one step at a time.

They are interrupted by the sound of a closing door and look up to see Jace standing at the entrance, duffel bag in hand and an apologetic look on his face. Magnus drops his hands from Alec’s waist and turns away slightly, while Alec stares at the wall for a moment, hoping against all hope that his _parabatai_ hasn’t actually interrupted them at a moment like this. But then Jace opens his mouth and derails Alec’s line of thought once more: “Sorry for killing the mood. You got a spare room?” He comes to stand in front of them, eyes going to Magnus’ face and they both stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Come again?” Magnus replies, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at the blond Shadowhunter.

“Aldertree basically kicked me out.”

That gets Alec’s attention and he takes a step forward, hands clasped tightly behind his back. “He did what?”

Jace sighs, dropping the duffel bag in his hand next to his feet and moves to sit down on the black leather sofa. Alec bristles slightly at his _parabatai_ ’s apparent lack of tact in someone else’s home, but his mind is still occupied with the fact that their superior supposedly barred a Shadowhunter from staying at the Institute.

“Well, technically I left, but it’s not like he’s given me any choice,” the blond one replies, looking up at Alec with a slight pout.

“Jace, what the hell happened?”

And so his brother recounts how Aldertree had only given him the lowest of tasks and had basically told him that he would let anyone know that Jace was not to be trust under any circumstances. “It’s not like I could’ve just stayed there after that, Alec,” Jace pleads and although he seems more annoyed than anything, Alec knows it’s just a façade. His brother is hurting, deeply, and he can see it in his eyes just as well as he can feel it through their bond. He hadn’t realized over the last few days how Aldertree had been treating Jace and feels bad for being so wrapped up in his own mind that his brother has had to suffer alone. Sitting down next to him on the sofa, he puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Aldertree, I promise.”

“No way,” Jace cuts in, grabbing Alec by the lapels. “You’ll do no such thing. I don’t need my big brother fighting my battles, Alec, okay? I’ll just stay here for a while until that son of a bitch comes crawling back, asking for my help with finding Valentine.” He hesitates, perhaps questioning if Aldertree will, in fact, do that. “The good thing is, I won’t have to be around Clary constantly.”

Alec looks over at Magnus, who has been standing next to the sofa quietly during Jace’s explanation. “Jace, perhaps you should come back home with me and try to talk to Ald-“

“No,” Jace interrupts him again, crossing his arms in defiance. “No way. Magnus, please let me stay here for a bit.” He looks up at the warlock at those last words, voice pleading.

Alec catches Magnus’ eye over Jace’s head for a moment. Even though he doesn’t want Jace to stay here, and not just for personal reasons, he knows there’s no other safe place for his brother to stay at the moment, if he refuses to be at the Institute.

Seeing his predicament, Magnus rolls his eyes, jaw clenching, but he eventually nods. “Fine. But if I find any Shadowhunter weapons, dirty socks or underwear lying around, I will feed you to some hellhounds I know,” the warlock says, raising a single threatening finger. Alec holds back a snort, sending Magnus a grateful look. “Now piss off to your room and let me say goodnight to my boyfriend.”

Alec freezes on his spot on the sofa and gapes at Magnus. Jace scrambles off the couch in a hurry, mumbling something about not wanting to see what that “goodnight” entails and grabs his duffel to slink off to Magnus’ guest room. Alec stares after him for a moment, mind still stuck on the word “boyfriend”.

“Have I finally broken you, Alexander?” Magnus asks, suddenly standing right in front of him and holding out his hand for Alec to take. He does, more or less on autopilot, and lets the warlock pull him to his feet. Their chests bump together and their faces are suddenly only inches apart.

“B-boyfriend?” he stammers eventually, voice barely above a whisper.

Magnus smiles, the one that lights up his whole face and makes his eyes crinkle. “Yes, silly. Or what did you think I meant about being all for effort with our relationship?”

There is a pleasant flutter in Alec’s stomach as he raises his hand to rest against Magnus’ shoulder, and he can’t help but return the blinding smile of… his boyfriend. “I guess that’s what that meant, yeah,” he says, feeling warm all over.

Magnus winks at him, then puts his hand to Alec’s neck and pulls his face down for another kiss. The metal of his rings feels cool against the heated skin as he returns the kiss enthusiastically. It remains a brief pressing of lips, though, both too aware of the fact that Jace could forget his sense of tact again at any moment and barge into the living room.

They separate reluctantly, lips lingering briefly, then pull apart completely. “Go get some sleep, Alexander,” Magnus says, walking him to the loft’s door.

“Thank you for tonight, Magnus,” he says, hand clasping the frame as if trying to stop himself from leaving.

“You’re very welcome.”

“I had a great time.”

“Me too,” Magnus replies, smiling. Alec hesitates again, eyes moving in the direction of the guest room. The warlock follows his gaze, then turns back to him with a sigh. “I’ll keep an eye on him, I promise.”

“Thank you.” Alec leans forward to press his lips against Magnus’ again. It feels like he’s suddenly almost addicted to kissing the other man, his mind not willing to part just yet. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Do that.” Magnus grabs his lapels before he can turn to leave and in turn catches Alec’s mouth in a last kiss goodnight. Then the door closes between them and Alec has a hard time keeping the smile off his face all the way home.

Tomorrow he will deal with the Institute and Jace and Aldertree, but tonight he allows himself to just think of Magnus and the feeling of his lips, the bite of his goatee, the softness of his eyes and the realization that he might not be the first or the last one Magnus has shared his life with, but he will cherish each moment they have together as best he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did any of you catch the whole dinner at _Luigi’s_ thing that I shamelessly stole from _The Bane Chronicles_? It’s obviously very different, but I thought it’d be a nice nod towards the books. 
> 
> I’m aiming for Sunday updates, what do you guys think? The weeks just don’t work with my writing schedule, but I usually get a lot done over the weekend, if I’m not busy. So I think Sundays it is! 
> 
> Again, I had to throw out eight pages of notes for 2x07, but now I also have a scene to extend, sooooo… Hopefully the next one will be up next Sunday. 
> 
> I love you lots, come say hello at [light-in-the-wood](light-in-the-wood.tumblr.com)! xxx


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